The Mayflower tree

For as long as I can remember into my childhood, every summer this Mayflower tree with its flaming red-orange blooms welcomed me to my native place ancestral home. As soon as annual exams were over & we were ready to make our trip to Mangalore, my mind’s eye used to be filled with the vision of this tree, its beautiful blooms – all vibrant and swaying to the summer breeze, blooms on the ground everywhere around the tree. It was like an indication of happy times ahead, past the gates where it stood, reunion with lots of cousins, laughter and fun times. To the left of the gate near the tree used to be the cowshed. There used to be some place on the thick walls of the cowshed compound where we could sit and gaze inside to all the cows there or outside to the tree and the rest of flora, greenery around. While the elders slept or relaxed in the afternoons, we cousins used to specd time here near the mayflower tree and the gate. The cowshed had one cow which used to almost urge you to continue caressing its neck… once you touched it.

 

A short drive-way past the gates brought into view this ancestral home which holds so many of my childhood memories. So many rooms, so many people, so much space (compared to Bombay) – all uncles, aunts, grandmother and cousins being together. I remember 1-2 corner rooms which used to be filled with books and where I could be found on some of the afternoons curled up with a book – could even be a non-detailed English text book (it contained stories) of one of my uncles! I have also been in this home for 4-5 weddings & then the place would wear such a lively look with all the people bustling about…and the fragrance of flowers and food everywhere!

But you must be thinking what am I going on about? I have been writing flowery statements about the Mayflower tree and all I show you is a ’stump’. But thats what it has got reduced to now… the tree grew old and hollow and broken - to bec0me this sad-looking stump, bereft of its glorious colours… And somehow unfortunately this hollowness of the tree seems to be reflected in the home as well now. People have moved away, grown and flown away in search of their futures, to newer destinations.

When I now visit this place, roam through the various empty rooms in the house, walk through the almost empty cowshed and gaze at the stump of my beloved Mayflower – I can only relive those wonderous memories.

How I wish my Mayflower tree would bloom once more….