Skip to main content

Forest

 Fiction

Sangeeta expressed her surprise by an uproarious shout which made Prashant drop the plant he was holding. 

“What a surprise!” She repeated that phrase until she reached near him and grabbed his hand shaking it wildly.   “What are you doing here in this forest?”

Prashant took a while to overcome the shock of the encounter, its surprise as much as its boisterousness. 

Sangeeta was his classmate during the undergraduate days when they both studied botany.  Plants were his passion while they were a “time pass” for her.  “Dad asked me to study something before I would be of marriageable age and I thought botany was the easiest to study.” 

They were meeting now after a gap of over a decade.  Prashant was now doing a post-doctoral research on some endangered species of plants. 

“Those apartments you see over there,” he pointed to the array of skyscrapers that blocked the sun on the adjacent hillocks, “are not meant for people deprived of homes.  They are meant for the people working abroad who will come with their dollars that need investment.  Apartments have become the latest fad for investors.  And they are killing off entire species of plants and animals.”

Sangeeta laughed as she used to do in her college days.  But her laugh did not have the old sparkle, thought Prashant.

“Oh, I forgot to ask you,” he said, “What are you doing here?”

“Some of those investments belong to my husband,” she said. 

Her husband belonged to the species known as builders and developers, she said.  He had built, in addition to quite many apartment paradises, a resort at the edge of the forest.  She loved to spend some time in the resort looking at the forest once in a while.  “Time pass,” she laughed.

“Why not with the family?” asked Prashant.

“Hubby has neither the time nor the inclination for such time passes.  Time is money, that’s his motto.  Making money is his life’s mission.  I don’t know how much money will satisfy him.”

“Children?”

“Yes, a son.  He loves to watch horror movies on the TV when he’s not playing video games whose sounds are more horrifying than the movies.”

They sat down on a rock.  “I was just taking a walk when I saw you,” she said.  “You haven’t changed a bit, you know.  The same old shabby hair and beard, jeans and kurta.  Yes, the specs have acquired some style.”

He smiled.

“Still miserly with words?  No change in that too?” she asked. 

He smiled agaisn.

“I remember you speaking once about the symphony of the forests.  How each sound in a forest adds together to create a harmonious symphony.  I hope I’m not disturbing that symphony.”

“No.  You’re a pleasant surprise.”

“Is there anything apart from the symphony that you’ve discovered about forests?”

Prashant looked into her eyes.  Do you really wish to know that? 

“Come on,” she cajoled him to speak.  “I can be serious too.”

“There are forests in all of us,” he said.

“Go on.  I’m all ears.”

“Some people harmonise their inner forests with the symphony of the real forests.  Some others clear the forests under the delusion that the inner forests are being cleared.”

“Civilisations are conquests over forests,” she said hesitantly.

“Remember the social Darwinism of Spencer?  Survival of the fittest.  Civilisation is just that.”

She remembered one of their professors speak about Spencer who coined the phrase ‘Survival of the fittest’.  Spencer had gone to the extent of saying that the weak people should be allowed to perish so that the future of humanity would be bright.  That is survival of the fittest.  Civilisation. 

Civilisation with its various toxins had become an abhorrence for her.  That’s why she used to take a break to stay in the room kept reserved for her in the Paradise Resort at the edge of the forest.

Her husband had encroached on the forest in order to construct the resort.  He had the political clout to encroach on any land.  Civilised people possess the lands and the rivers, the seas and the mountains.  Civilisation is an endless hunger. 

“Shall I tell you something funny, Prashant?” she asked.

He looked at her.

“I used to feel a strange attraction to you when we were in college.”

He didn’t say anything.  He didn’t even look at her.

“You aren’t surprised, I know.  Nothing surprised you even in those days.  You had no human passions.  You were a vegetable.  A plant.  That’s why.”

“Why what?”

“Should I answer that?”  She laughed.  “Can you forget the symphony of the forest for a while and join me for a dinner tonight?  Just for old time’s sake.”

“Why not?”

“Thank you.  You are not a vegetable altogether, are you?”

The sun had already set behind the skyscrapers.  The cicadas had begun their orchestra in the forest. 

“Your family?” She realised that she had not asked anything about him.  They were walking towards the Paradise Resort.

“Didn’t marry.”

“The forest is your soul.”  She laughed.

He smiled faintly.

“The forest is in our souls.” She laughed again.  More loudly this time.  


Acknowledgement: The concept of “the symphony of the forest” is borrowed from a Malayalam movie, Ezhamathe Varavu (The Seventh Coming), whose script is written by one of the best writers in Malayalam, M T Vasudevan Nair. 

Comments

  1. Replies
    1. ... and there different ways of dealing with it. Broadly 2 ways: accept it and achieve harmony, or deny it and go after presumed, better alternatives.

      Delete
  2. Wow...unique angle to it..enjoyed the story

    ReplyDelete
  3. We all have forests in our souls.! Absolutely!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I differentiated it a little: Please notice the last two utterances of Sangeeta.

      Delete
  4. hm.. but some people let out the beasts from their forest to demolish other's..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Such is the world, Kokila. Not all can keep the beasts under their control. And not all the time. Blessed are the people who understand their inner forest and the beasts there.

      Delete
    2. true. its hard to find some one without a forest or beast within,harder to find those who understand and know how to tame them..

      Delete
  5. Symphony of the forest, just felt this when I visited a coffee estate, not exactly a forest but it just felt so calm and peaceful that the sound of civilization just felt down right cruel or irritating.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. If you were able to experience that symphony, consider yourself fortunate, Athena.

      Delete
  6. Nice story. Eternal conflict between a nature lover and a practical builder, an inward looking explorer and outward going worldly person.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Abhijit, for that wonderfully simple analysis.

      Delete
  7. well written,short and crisp but the inner meaning is hidden in the 'forests ' of words. Each of us have a inner forest that harmonizes with some others and we seek them out some how.Life is how we harmonies our forests ! Hope i got that correct Sir?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You got it absolutely right, Nima. Thanks for sharing your analysis of the story. A lot of us struggle with our inner forest(s). Writing for me is one way of exploring it and keeping it in harmony with the given reality.

      Delete
  8. Never looked at it this way...a forest within us. I liked it a lot :)

    ReplyDelete
  9. wonderful ! super-like this one. good wishes

    ReplyDelete
  10. Enlightening post as always. :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Adventures of Toto as a comic strip

  'The Adventures of Toto' is an amusing story by Ruskin Bond. It is prescribed as a lesson in CBSE's English course for class 9. Maggie asked her students to do a project on some of the lessons and Femi George's work is what I would like to present here. Femi converted the story into a beautiful comic strip. Her work will speak for itself and let me present it below.  Femi George Student of Carmel Public School, Vazhakulam, Kerala Similar post: The Little Girl

The Little Girl

The Little Girl is a short story by Katherine Mansfield given in the class 9 English course of NCERT. Maggie gave an assignment to her students based on the story and one of her students, Athena Baby Sabu, presented a brilliant job. She converted the story into a delightful comic strip. Mansfield tells the story of Kezia who is the eponymous little girl. Kezia is scared of her father who wields a lot of control on the entire family. She is punished severely for an unwitting mistake which makes her even more scared of her father. Her grandmother is fond of her and is her emotional succour. The grandmother is away from home one day with Kezia's mother who is hospitalised. Kezia gets her usual nightmare and is terrified. There is no one at home to console her except her father from whom she does not expect any consolation. But the father rises to the occasion and lets the little girl sleep beside him that night. She rests her head on her father's chest and can feel his heart...

The Chhattisgarh Story

Deforestation in Chhattisgarh Kerala’s Catholic Church is teeming with rage these days because of the arrest of two nuns in Chhattisgarh on false charges. No one seems to understand the real politics behind the Modi government’s enmity towards Christian missionaries in Chhattisgarh as well as other backward states in its neighbourhood. Modi is selling the tribal areas and forestlands to the corporate sector part by part, his friend Adani being the chief benefactor. The Christian missionaries are a severe hindrance in that commerce. Let us get some facts right, at least. The Adivasi villagers allege that Gram Sabhas (local governing bodies) were forged or manipulated under pressure from Adani and the BJP government officials in order to take away their lands. In Hasdeo Aranya, minutes of the local body meetings were altered to show the villagers’ consent for land transfers. Also, the Chhattisgarh Scheduled Tribes Commission found that Panchayat secretaries were detained and coerc...

The Real Enemies of India

People in general are inclined to pass the blame on to others whatever the fault.  For example, we Indians love to blame the British for their alleged ‘divide-and-rule’ policy.  Did the British really divide India into Hindus and Muslims or did the Indians do it themselves?  Was there any unified entity called India in the first place before the British unified it? Having raised those questions, I’m going to commit a further sacrilege of quoting a British journalist-cum-historian.  In his magnum opus, India: a History , John Keay says that the “stock accusations of a wider Machiavellian intent to ‘divide and rule’ and to ‘stir up Hindu-Muslim animosity’” levelled against the British Raj made little sense when the freedom struggle was going on in India because there really was no unified India until the British unified it politically.  Communal divisions existed in India despite the political unification.  In fact, they existed even before the Briti...

Are human systems repressive?

Salma I had never heard of Salma until she was sent to the Rajya Sabha as a Member of the Parliament by Tamil Nadu a couple of weeks back and a Malayalam weekly featured her on the cover with an interview. Salma’s story made me think on the nature of certain human systems and organisations including religion. Salma was born Rajathi Samsudeen. Marriage made her Rukiya, because her husband’s family didn’t think of Rajathi as a Muslim name. Salma is the pseudonym she chose as a writer. Salma’s life was always controlled by one system or another. Her religion and its ruthlessly patriarchal conventions determined the crests and troughs of her life’s waves. Her schooling ended the day she chose to watch a movie with a friend, another girl whose education was stopped too. They were in class 9. When Rajathi protested that her cousin, a boy, was also watching the same movie at the same time in the same cinema hall, her mother’s answer was, “He’s a boy; boys can do anything.” Rajathi was...