The Courtyard Tree (standard:other, 3553 words)
Author: Shamoil Ahmad	Added: Jul 28 2010	Views/Reads: 2991/1900	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The ugliest site on the earth is a man shivering out of fear.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

examination. Now he was at the threshold of an age when ants did not 
crawl for nothing and when fragrance opened up new vistas. Ants would 
now make a beeline to the branches and the youthful branches would 
swing tunefully, branches would dance merrily and he would climb up to 
the highest branch and hum a song or two. 

From the branch where he used to sit, his neighbor’s courtyard was
visible. One day as he was sitting there, his eyes suddenly fell on a 
girl who spreading out clothes for drying up . He had not seen the girl 
earlier. Soon the girl moved out of his sight as she proceeded to the 
extreme corner of the courtyard.  Only her apron was visible   He then 
quickly moved up to the farthest branch from where the corner was 
visible.  Her apron was fluttering. Suddenly the apron flew off her 
person baring her bosom. Her bosom was exposed and his eyes got stuck 
there. The girl’s eyes fell upon him...and for a while, she remained 
rooted to the ground. She picked up her apron and coiled behind a 
pillar...the pillar could not provide full cover to her. One of her 
legs and the hind part of her head was still visible. She smiled and 
looked at him from behind the pillar and the movement of the branch had 
become more pronounced. 

Now it had become a regular feature with him to occupy the vantage
branch of the tree and the girl would also take her appointed place 
behind the pillar and on occasions would come over to the middle of the 
courtyard and allow her apron become airborne.... 

One day he dared to ogle to her. His heart began to beat.  The girl
scampered off to the spot behind the pillar with a subtle smile, and 
she smiled a number of times from behind the pillar. His heart had 
begun to beat more violently each time she smiled and ants had begun to 
crawl up the tree. 

It was a hot summer afternoon when the girl peeped into his courtyard
from the rear gate. She had come to plead for some leaves for her goat. 
When she came close to the tree , he saw her from close quarters for 
the first time. There were beads of perspiration on her forehead. The 
upper lip was wet and eyes were playful. 

He began to pluck leaves. In the process, his hand touched her person on
a number of occasions. She looked happy. He too was full of exuberance. 
 Suddenly there was a rush of wind and her apron flew off. Her eyes 
turned crimson...beads of perspiration had rolled down on her upper lip 
and the sunlight beating down ....they were sparkling. His hand 
impulsively landed on her person and the apron flew off again and  her 
pomegranates like breast exposed off and he could hardly understand 
when he was drawn into the girl... he felt the tinge of cold beads of 
her lips on his own lips. It was the feel of the first kiss....he sort 
of felt intoxicated. 

The girl was moved into his  arms....her lips on his lips... and
youthful wind blowing from across the leaves of the tree...the first 
intoxicating moment of life...the first beat of heart of its kind...the 
creeping of ants....and the fear  of someone making a sudden 
appearance...! The impact of the first kiss was dissolving into his 
within like ice melting into water...and the branches were merrily 
dancing above and in this moment of ecstasy the tree was the witness 
for him. It was not the forbidden tree that had grown on the 
paradise...it was a tree of his own existence grown in his 
courtyard...it was his partner sharing his little innocent  
secrets....an accomplice in his tender crime. 

Suddenly the girl extricated herself from his embrace.  Her face had
gown crimson and her entire  being  was shivering. She ran off and did 
not even took the leaves he had plucked for her... and he remained 
rooted to the ground. 

For the first time that year the tree bore flowers. With the passage of
time the tree grew bigger still and he too became a fully grown man and 
began to aid his father in his work. 

Both branches and leaves of the tree had grown in size, but the tree did
not bear any fruit. It only produced flowers....yellowish flowers.  And 
whenever wind blew the flowers spread out in the courtyard. The 
courtyard usually became littered with flowers and darkened leaves. Now 
mother had to put in more labor to keep the courtyard clean. 

In the evening father would spread out a folding cot  under the  tree
and relax. He will always pull his pajama up to his ankle and squat 
there puffing leisurely at the biri.  His mother would take her seat 
beside him and talk of sundry things while at the same time chop 
vegetables 

One day she broached the idea of his marriage Father took a long pull at
the biri and reflected on those offers that had come for him. 

Ultimately the day came when mother had a canopy raised in the courtyard
and the ladies of the locality played trumpet and sang songs the whole 
night and the leaves kept dancing to their tune. 

That particular year the tree was laden with copious flowers. 

His wife was beautiful. Gradually she took control of all household
works. But she evinced no interest in the tree. She would frown 
whenever called upon to sweep the courtyard. Leaves also fell in great 
numbers. Mother would gather all leaves in a corner and torch it. 

His wife bore him four children. They also took no interest in the tree.
They did not even play in its shed, nor did anyone ever climb up the 
tree. The eldest son was eager to chop off the tree. He found its 
presence detestable. To him the tree looked ugly. Its screwed up 
branches irritated him  One particular branch had swung down to the 
ground. The ground around the root usually remained wet and whenever it 
rained that particular spot became muddy and slippery and the falling 
flowers would get stuck there. Dry leaves too began to collect there in 
large measure. His wife was fade up of cleaning and sweeping. 

The tree had grown immensely and provided the look of palisade. Now the
entire responsibility had developed upon him. Father had become old and 
infirm and he mostly remained indoors. However, even now he took to 
squatting under the tree as he smoked his biri. He regularly coughed 
now. On occasions, excessive coughing brought him the problems of 
breathing. At times in the course of coughing, his eyes would budge out 
of their sockets and he would spit a large quantity of sputum under the 
folding cot. Even then he did not give up smoking biri 

His father at long last left for his heavenly abode. Mother wept to her
heart’s content and he, a sad man, remained sitting under the tree. For 
the first time he had to countenance the thought of having lost 
something. 

His responsibilities grew manifold after father’s death. Now he was
himself a father and his children had grown up and they had begun to 
assist him in his work. Economically he was more prosperous than 
before. His business had stabilized. He had the dilapidated house 
repaired and had the doors and windows replaced with rosewood. He also 
had a big verandah made. His wife had now occupied a new room and the 
kitchen was close to it. He desired that his mother had also  shift to 
a new room, but she was not prepared to move. After father’s death she 
was a broken person and she remained inside her own room coughing all 
the day. The plaster of her room had peeled off and the wooden parts  
had become termite-infested. She did not even desire that this should 
be repaired. She did not want dislocation of anything which a repair 
would have necessitated. Whenever he pressed for her moving to some 
other room, she would say “why do you want me to leave my designated 
place...? I had arrived in this room on a palanquin and if I had to 
leave it, it must be on a bier...’ 

These words of his mother left him distraught and somewhat annoyed.
Although he was well off but not so  happy. The sky had acquired a dark 
hue and butterflies were no longer to be seen. Crows and kites had 
thronged the scene and overall atmosphere had become polluted. When his 
father was alive, the town used to remain full of life and activities 
up to ten at night. But now the area had become infested with terrorist 
 and the shops and all activities got closed at  dusk. Every other day 
the curfew would be clamped and cops would patrol the town. Treetop had 
become a refuge for the crows and they kept cawing the whole day. This 
cawing looked inauspicious to him. He intensely desired that his 
courtyard be freed of all cows and kites. He knew it was nearly 
impossible to get ride of them. He would watch them with his helpless 
eyes. 

It was now difficult even to sit in the shed of tree. Birds kept
defecating, which had defaced the courtyard beyond recognition. Mother 
no longer had the ability to sweep the floor and his wife was just not 
inclined to do that. Occasionally he called in laborers for the cleanup 


Continual activities of the terrorists had thrown a scare into the mind
of his wife. She desired to shift to some safe place. His children also 
wanted to shift out of this place and he would think plaintively; 
‘where to go...leaving his ancestral home behind? What he should do 
about his mother...? It would be too much to expect her to leave her 
hearth when she was not even prepared to leave her room. 

But one day he was forced to think afresh about it all. He had a narrow
escape that day...it was providential... 

He had gone for shopping with his wife when terrorists made sudden
appearance in the bazaar and began indiscriminate shooting. There was 
stampede all around. His wife fainted out of sheer dread and he sort of 
lost his wit...right in front of his eyes heads were getting bored with 
gunshots...and by the time police arrived on the scene, many had 
succumbed. 

Terrorist soon vanished and the town placed under curfew. He anyhow
managed to carry his wife home. Even upon gaining consciousness, she 
would start violently and cling on to him. He was himself adequately 
terrorized by the incident. He decided to leave the area. But mother 
was not ready to oblige him. Her only logic was ‘’does anyone leave the 
ancestral home...?’’ 

He also did not want to be deprived of his legacy. But he had seen it
all with his own eyes; how human beings had their hearts lacerated with 
bullets and how blood oozed forth... and then nothing ever 
happens...only curfew is imposed on the town...and there are only 
vehicles making sorties... 

He decided to settle in a far-flung area...but how about the mother...?
She would weep bitterly and looked at the peeling walls with her 
forlorn eyes. At long last his wife began to make a hysterical 
outburst. ..’’this hag will have all of us killed...’’ 

Mother stopped weeping   She stopped speaking...She did not move out of
his room   She did not even eat anything. 

Sad and crestfallen, he sat down under the tree. The tree it seemed had
held its breath. There was no movement in the leaves. Crows and kites 
occupying the branches were also silent. Only the occasional coughing 
sound emanated from the mother’s room and disturbed the silence. 
Sometimes the passing patrol vehicles broke the silence. A kite 
fluttered out of  the tree and sat down on the roof top. The fluttering 
sound lasted for a fleeting second and thereafter it was all quite 
again. This gave a shiver down his spine.  It appeared to him that the 
kite, the patrolling vehicles and the sick mother are all part of the 
same system where every individual with his emaciated face is trying to 
protect his legacy. 

Mother suddenly began to cough violently. He hurried inside the room.
With her hand rested on the chest, she was coughing constantly. He sat 
beside her head and tried to extend his helping hand to his mother. His 
elbow accidently dashed against the wall. The weakened plaster fell off 
in a heap and the gaps between the bricks exposed. A lizard crawled out 
of his sight behind the lintel. 

He began to massage the back of his mother. When her coughing abated, he
administered a draught of water from the pitcher and laid her softly 
down. For once, she looked at him with her benign eyes and then shut 
her eyes. 

For a while he kept sitting there. Then he rose and went to his room.
His wife was lying there covering herself with a bed sheet. Upon 
hearing his footsteps, she removed the cover from his face and said. 

‘’If you want to die with your mother you may do so...I am no longer
prepared to stay here even for a while.’’ 

He remained silent. Wife covered herself and slept off. That night he
could not sleep. He kept changing sides and for quite sometimes kept 
hearing the coughing sound emanating from his mother’s room. However, 
after midnight the sound stopped coming...the silence deepened further. 


In the morning he suddenly heard the weeping sound of his wife coming
from his mother’s room. He ran into the room. Mother’s body was lying 
like a heap of cloth. Her lifeless body was ice-cold. He was 
dumbfounded. His wife was beating her chest. 

After mother’s death, he was left with no excuse. He sent his wife away
to her parents for some days and he himself began to explore the 
possibilities of settling in a new town. 

He was sitting sad in the courtyard. The courtyard had become a heap of
the dry leaves. It was silence all around. The wind was static. There 
was not even a crackling sound of leaves. Suddenly there was a wailing 
sound of a dog coming from the streets. The silence became all the more 
deadly. His heart sank. He looked about himself with his tired eyes. 
The tree continued to stand as though holding its breath. Kites and 
crows were also quite. It occurred to him that this silence was  the 
part of a conspiracy hatched by the crows and kites and abetted by the 
tree. In the lengthening shadow of evening he gave a fresh look to the 
tree. It looked ugly. He will have it chopped off...he thought for a 
fleeting moment. Just then he heard the sound of leaves as a crow 
defecated on his head. He looked up in exasperation. He saw some 
vultures making sorties of his roof. Just then  he heard  the presence 
of terrorists at his doorsteps which was soon followed by the sound of 
gunshots. He sprang up from his seat and ran towards the rear door of 
the courtyard. But it seemed he was tightly held back by someone from 
behind. With a jerk he looked back and he found that his linen was 
entangled with a branch that had been down to the ground. He tried his 
best to extricate himself  but the linen had been pierced through by 
the stem of a tiny branch and it was always difficult to immediately 
extricate his linen there from. Terrorists were trying to break open 
the front door and he was trying to extricate his linen from that 
branch. Dread and terror engulfed him. His throat dried up and heart 
was beating heavily. And the tree that was once his friend and the one 
who shared the  moments of  secrets with him had clasped him with its 
vice like grip. And the tree stood there in abject silence ...even the 
leaves were bereft of movement. 

And then the door gave in. The terrorists streamed in.  Craws began
cowing as they flew off and the courtyard became the repository of the 
ugliest site that the earth could present...the cawing of crows...the 
vultures turning in gyre and man’s entangled linen... 

Haplessly he looked towards the rear door of the courtyard, which even
now he was trying to reach. Then wishfully he thought if only he had 
taken to running from the edge of the courtyard...but by then the 
terrorists had already taken him in their clasp... 


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