July 15 - 31 Issue
For 10 days now, I have been fighting for a tree.
I cross six flyovers on my way to work. The nicest of them is the one that snakes from J J Hospital to Crawford Market, taking me through one of Mumbai’s most congested areas in about five minutes, instead of the 35 minutes it used to take.
But almost as pleasant is the smaller flyover on the Eastern Express Highway that spans the cutting that leads to Vikhroli Station. It stands as a symbol of the fact that development does not have to be at the cost of Nature. For, even as they built the flyover, the engineers and the company concerned took care to leave the trees that stood beside the newly-broadened road in place.
There they stood, the dozen or so 20-year-old trees, on either side of the flyover, tossing their leaves in a celebration of life, as the cars whizzed past.
Then a few months ago, I noticed that two of the trees had died. They had lost all their leaves; the trunk had turned white and dry.
I wondered if their life span was over, or whether they could not cope with the daily doses of carbon monoxide that they were forced to receive from the exhausts of passing vehicles... It made me somber, but Nature has its ways, I thought, and there was nought I could do about it anyway.
Then, one day, I noticed that the bark of one of the other trees seemed to have been stripped off. It could have been a car ramming into it, or the iron rods that often protrude from behind trucks that could have done the damage. But then, day after day, I could see that the bark was being stripped off. Closer inspection showed what could be vertical axe marks on the trunk, meant not to cut the tree down, but to strip it of its bark.
THE motive for such behaviour was unclear. There was no use anyone could have for the bark; there were no hutments nearby whose residents could use it for fuel, so I finally called Friends Of Trees, of which I am a member, and asked for advice and help.
They readily put me on to the Tree Authority. Which did not pass the buck in turn - but only because no one was around to respond to my calls. The officials were always either on field trips, and could not be contacted on their ‘personal’ mobile phones, or were at lunch and ‘could not be disturbed’. The staff on duty admitted that the complaint was on register but...
Then it poured unceasingly for many days, and it seemed as if the secret assailant had decided to leave the tree alone after all.
But the first day of respite, and as I drove home, I could see that the axe marks had reached a height of two metres and more.
Back to my phone calls and this time, not taking ‘no’ for an answer, I badgered the authorities of both Friends Of Trees and the Tree Authority till I got them to commit to looking into the matter. Of course, I had to respond to queries like why I had not taken the ‘invisible’ culprits to the police station and lodged an FIR, and why I could not set up a vigil et al.
I don't know if they will finally, do something to save the tree and the others near it, which could in turn, also turn to dead wood if their bark is stripped off. I do hope writing this and sending it to those who can ask for some accountability from those whose jobs are about tree preservation will save this and other trees.
I can also take some pleasure from the fact that this monsoon, a whole line of dead trunks replanted from fallen or cut trees have burst into leaf along the highway.
But for every tree that is lost, wilfully or due to neglect (and monsoon damage is far from over), our city does get closer to becoming a desolate concrete jungle. Where waterlogging, pollution and humid heat will take over - according to the time of year. Add to that the fact that plastic waste is turning our soil into barren desert land where nothing can take root... The future looks bleak indeed.
I keep asking myself, does anyone care? Will someone give me an answer?
The Editor
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