I Made A New Friend
I was new to my neighborhood when I befriended Him
I shifted to a new country and a new neighborhood after marriage. Having stepped on foreign land, I sometimes felt distant from myself too. My husband had told me, “The first few weeks will be exciting. Slowly the feeling will start sinking in. You will miss family and friends. It will take a few months, but you will manage. After all, you are moving to the land of opportunity!”
As soon as I landed, I started embracing this place. “It’s not that bad”, I would tell myself. Everyone’s experiences are different.”
And then the inevitable happened. How long can one go without socializing? I was always an introvert, however, contrary to the belief, even introverts need friends. I would stand on the patio, with a cup of tea in hand, wishing for a friend to have a chat with. Other times, during my evening walks, I would miss gossiping and giggling with old friends, back home.
I remember once I tried to eavesdrop on two women’s chitter-chatter, only to imagine myself being friends with them, for a few seconds. As desperate as I may sound, you can understand this by only walking in my shoes.
One evening, while sipping my tea, I finally saw a human figure standing on her patio in the apartment on my left. I got so excited. I turned towards her and beamed a smile. She looked away and went inside.
“Must have missed it”, I thought to myself, although I did notice her frown.
“Ignore her. She’s not gregarious.”
I fidgeted around, not being able to see the speaker. A haunted neighborhood was the last place I wanted to live in.
“In front,
This side,
Here.”
And then I noticed His arms waving at me.
“Hey there! My name’s Elm. I see you standing here every day. I’ve also noticed you walking around. So, all settled in the new house?”
Not only was I startled to see a tree talking, but I was also all the more frightened to hear how much He knew about me.
He noticed the horror.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Let me explain. I was planted here by Ms. Rozi, who lived in your apartment many years back. She too was new in this country, moved from Indonesia. She told me she was so lonely that she took up gardening and then she planted me here, right in front of your house, that was her abode back then. She said she wished for a friend and I was born, a friendly tree in the neighborhood. We shared a deep bond of friendship for 30 years and then she passed away. I too never made another friend after her. You see, we attract what we are. That’s how we found each other. And then I saw you. A reflection of her and myself. How could I resist talking to you?”
I didn’t know what to reply. Although I was glad to find a new friend, the whole idea of being friends with a tree seemed creepy and crazy.
But how dangerous can this friendship be? When did a tree harm a human?
I instantly opened up to Elm. He would listen to me with the patience of a saint. His laugh was infectious. His breathy laughter just took away all the tension in the air. It filled my backyard with so much positivity.
We talked about almost everything. Past, Present, and Future. Elm said that he has seen it all. No doubt he was a wise tree, rooted with the learnings of the land on which it was born. He said that Rise and Fall are a part of growing up.
And He had seen all the seasons- Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter, year after year.
“What a dull and helpless life”, I exclaimed. “Everything moves on, but you. You stand stationary, paralyzed, watching your leaves shed and branches sag. Someone else reaps your fruits. What do you get?”
He replied calmly, “New ones AND my lessons.”
Whenever it was breezy, he swayed his arms and called me outside. He told me about the Ahmeds on the first floor and Smiths on right. He gave me the minutest details of my new neighborhood.
Sometimes he got busy with the kids. A small group loved to play around him. Elm told me once that he loved kids. “They smell sweet, harmless.” He was terrified of strangers in the neighborhood, especially those carrying tools, and he sighed a breath of relief to watch them cut pipes and not trunks.
“Don’t worry, I will adopt you”, I told him.
“And put a plaque on me? I can’t be claimed. I’m better off dead”, he said. “Why do people only remember me to remember others?”
I had no answer. People grew trees in memory of the ones they had lost. Trees should be cherished in the present, while being alive.
I got familiar with his regular visitors. Three sparrows, a squirrel, and two hummingbirds. They brought him tales from the faraway lands and took his stories back with them. I think he enjoyed silent company, just like me.
One day I told Elm that I would have been so solitary without Him here. “I moved far and lost touch with friends. I call them but I think they are busy with their lives now.”
“Relationships are like trees”, he said. “They need time and attention. The biggest mistake people make is of overwatering. Yes, they need to be watered, but it should be balanced. Too much and they are not able to breathe. Too less and they dry out. Give them time. There is a season and reason for everything. If they blossom, then they were meant to be in your garden. Otherwise, no matter how much you try, your soil and toil will never be adequate. Accept that and move on. Sometimes people are so occupied smelling the Jasmine on the other side of the road that the fragrance of their own garden rose doesn’t please them.”
I learnt a lot from Elm-
that there is volume in silence and stillness;
there is always shade, no matter the season;
yet nothing is permanent;
patience will bring in fruits that we may not reap, we must be kind anyway;
winter follows spring;
summer will bring a lot of friends, who will be gone by autumn,
there are no bad people, only bad times;
you have to deal with rains- either stomp your feet in anger and the muddy water will spoil your face or stand still facing upward and rejuvinate.
giving brings joy;
those who stand tall have suffered the most;
and you can give life even after being dead.
Elm passed away due to the Dutch Elm disease. My husband and I moved to another city after his death. But I don’t feel lonesome anymore. Even today, when the wind gushes and leaves rustle in the lawn outside, I rush to see, if maybe, there’s a friend in one of those trees.
