The Legend of the Lone Banyan Tree

- Ravi ila Bhatt

In the sun-bleached expanse of the Kutch desert, where the salt crust cracks under a relentless sky, stood the Lone Vad. This ancient Banyan tree was more than a plant; it was a living landmark. Situated precisely at the crossroads between Bhuj, Mandvi, and Anjar, its massive canopy offered the only respite for miles in the shimmering heat.

One May afternoon, two college friends, Devansh and Jignesh, were trekking across the arid plains. By noon, the mercury had hit 46°C. The "Loo"—the scorching desert wind—felt like a furnace blast. Dehydrated and dizzy, they finally collapsed under the sprawling shadow of the Lone Vad. The temperature under the green ceiling was nearly 10 degrees cooler. They fell into a deep, life-saving sleep, protected from the lethal UV rays.

Two hours later, they woke up. While their bodies were rested, their stomachs were growling. Devansh looked up at the vast, tangled branches, searching for a snack.

"What a useless tree!" Devansh groaned, kicking the gnarled trunk. "It’s huge, but it doesn’t have a single mango, chikoo, or even a wild berry. We’re starving, and this thing offers nothing but leaves. In a desert, a tree that doesn't provide food is just a waste of space."

Jignesh tried to calm him, but Devansh continued to curse the "fruitless" giant.

Suddenly, the wind whistled through the prop roots with a deep, resonant hum. A voice, ancient and heavy like the desert sands, seemed to rise from the earth.

"Anek abhaar (Many thanks), young traveler," the tree sighed. "Your memory is as short as your temper. Think back to two hours ago. Your skin was blistering, and your heart was racing. If I were not here, the Rann would have claimed your life before the sun touched the horizon."

The tree’s voice grew stern. "I do not give you sugar, but I give you breath. I do not fill your plate, but I shield your soul. Is your hunger so loud that you cannot appreciate the very life I just saved?"

A chill of realization ran down Devansh’s spine. He looked at the white, lethal salt desert stretching endlessly beyond the shade. He realized that without this "useless" tree, he wouldn’t be alive to feel hungry at all. Bowing his head, he touched the bark and whispered, "Bhul thai gayi (I made a mistake). Thank you for the shade."

Moral

Gratitude is the ability to value what you have, rather than complaining about what you lack. Every creation of God has innumerable benefits to the mankind. There is good in everything and we often fails to notice the good!