Every evening, thirteen-year-old Rhea would saunter from her house towards an enormous banyan tree in a small pasture nearby, to climb atop its branches to watch the sun set over the distant hills, speckling the sky with streaks of many hues. It was gratifying to lie among the branches and feel the gentle breeze and watch the setting sun.
Rhea loved the banyan tree. It was her best friend. It was really old. Her grandmother had picnics with her dolls and tea under the shade of the tree. Her mother had played with her friends around the tree, and had carved their names on to its bark.
The pasture was seldom approached, so Rhea could keep her banyan tree and the thriving green grass on all sides to herself.
Now that her grandmother was old and spent most of her days napping, and her mother was too busy to have the time to visit the banyan tree, Rhea dropped in on the aged tree. And to Rhea, the tree was out of the ordinary. She felt it was alive. Whenever a twig or a branch of the tree broke and Rhea prayed hard that the tree would get back whatever it lost - twig or branch - the very next day, the tree would have the twig that snapped, or the branch that fell.
Since she sensed there was something magical in the banyan tree the moment she’d set eyes on it, she’d started talking to it, pouring her heart out because she felt it was listening. She’d joke and laugh to herself and thought she heard a low chuckle, like the tree was laughing too.
When she told her mother about the tree, she just laughed and said, “The tree isn’t magical, Rhea. There’s nothing as magic. Half my life I’ve spent with the tree, and nothing about the tree seemed magical to me. It’s just an ordinary banyan tree.” Rhea was afraid people would mock her for believing in magic. She made up her mind she was just seeing things, and there actually was no magic in the tree; she was being silly.
Then one day the tree spoke to her. She was lying on a branch, waiting for the sun to set. She spoke of her grandmother, who was growing weaker by the minute. Rhea wanted her to live until she grew up. That was when the tree, started talking. "I know your grandmother. She used to talk to me every day like you do, Rhea.” Startled, Rehea toppled off the branch, nearly falling to the ground. She was surprised that another branch had mysteriously moved to catch her.
“Is this the tree speaking?” She stammered. “Or is this some sort of prank?”
“Of course it's not a prank. I am the tree, sorry if I startled you, I didn’t mean to.”
“So you really are magical…” Rhea whispered. “Of course I am," said the tree. “Your mother doesn’t believe so. I only reveal the magic I possess to people who actually believe in magic. Like you, and your grandmother.” “My grandmother?” Rhea echoed. The tree shook as if it was nodding. “She talked to me heaps. She must be aged now. Is she well?” “I’m afraid not. If she leaves, I don’t think I can be happy ever again.”
The tree unfurled a branch to drape around Rhea’s shoulders. “My child, nothing is everlasting. Someday we have to leave this world. You need to learn to let things go, no matter how hard it is.”
Rhea sighed. “I don’t know, tree.” “Call me Ban, short for ‘Banyan’.” “Alright, Ban.”
She then visited her grandmother, who was seated in bed sipping soup. Rhea was alarmed at how pale and weak she looked. Upon noticing her, grandma gestured for Rhea to come near.
“How are you, grandma?” Rhea asked, sitting down beside her. “Well, dear, I assume it is obvious from the way I look. I’m afraid my days are numbered. So you went to visit the tree today?” Rhea suddenly forgot everything else but the amazing fact that the tree had communicated with her and she wanted grandma to know.
“Ah yes, old Ban,” grandma sighed. “I miss him. It’s a pity I can no longer visit him. It’s a good thing at least you go round.” “You talked to Ban too, right? He told me.” “We’re old friends, Ban and I. Everyone thought I was going mad when I said I was a friend of a talking tree,” she tickled Rhea’s chin tenderly.
“Before I leave,” grandma said. “I want to see Ban one last time. I won’t last more than five days, Rhea. I’m sure of it. I want to see my old friend, my talking tree, my magical tree.” Rhea had tears in her eyes, but struggled to smile. “I promise to take you, grandma.” she said, with much difficulty, for she was in tears. Grandma stroked Rhea’s hair. “There, there. No need for tears, sweetheart. Come here,” she reached forward and embraced Rhea, who clutched her tight, never wanting to let go.
The next day, Rhea took her grandmother on her wheelchair to the banyan tree. She made sure her mother didn’t notice, for she would certainly disapprove of it. Ban was beside himself to meet Rhea’s grandmother again, after no less than ninety decades.
“Martha!” Ban exclaimed joyously at the sight of his old companion. Rhea climbed one of the tree’s branches and watched as her grandma and Ban caught up, happy to see her grandma so ecstatic at meeting her childhood friend. Rhea was lost in thought and was suddenly aware of what was happening to her grandma.
“Ban, I’ll never forget you, my friend,” she said, as Rhea jumped down to rush to her side. Grandma touched Rhea’s cheek and smiled. “I want to be with Ban, sweetheart. Nothing should happen to him. And, I love you.” With that, grandma closed her eyes, forever. Crying, Rhea rushed home to deliver the news. She told her parents grandma’s final words, and grandma’s wishes were fulfilled. She was buried by the banyan tree.
After the burial, Rhea’s mother went over to the tree and stroked its bark. Rhea joined her, and she said, “I remember all the fun we used to have around here. My name is probably still here, where I carved it.” Sure enough, it was.
“Don’t you think this tree could be magical, mum?” Rhea asked with hope. Her mum looked at her and laughed. “Not that nonsense again.” Rhea sighed. Well, not everyone believed in magic. And the next day, the banyan tree got chopped down.
Rhea came as usual in the evening, to find Ban in pieces, and some workers sitting down to rest with machetes by their sides. “No!” Rhea cried out and rushed towards the tree. She’d promised her grandma that nothing would happen to Ban. “Why did you do this?!” She demanded from the workers, who were alarmed.
“It’s just our job, kid.” One said. “We were asked to cut it down.” “But this tree is special. It’s been here for centuries! You can’t just chop it,” Rhea protested. “They’re going to build a new apartment complex here. After all, this pasture is enormous.” “You can’t do that!” Rhea insisted, in tears. “My grandma’s buried here. She said that nothing should happen to it!” “We’re sorry, kid.”
Rhea got down on her knees and stared mournfully at the chopped down pieces of her banyan tree. "Oh, Ban." That was when something ghostly white burst from below. Rhea couldn’t believe it! It was her grandma’s spirit! The spirit waved an arm, and in a second, Ban was back. “Leave here. Never come back.” The spirit boomed. “This tree should never be harmed. If anything happens to it again, beware.” The frightened men fled.
The spirit turned to Rhea, who was crying happy tears, and smiled. “Rhea, I miss you already.” She said and spread out her arms. Rhea rushed into her grandma’s arms. “For as long as I live, I will protect Ban. That I promise you, grandma.” “I know you will,” grandma said. “And I will aid you, and be by your side. And Ban’s, of course.”
Ban wrapped his branches around the pair and joined in the hug.
As the sun set over the horizon, the girl, the tree and the spirit embraced one another, frozen in time.
By Binadie Ratnayake