Puttachi was asked by her English teacher to write a few lines about her mother. Mother's name, what she likes to do, what she does for Puttachi, and what Puttachi does for her. This was what she wrote.
Oh yes I melted!
On our way to school, we pass a beautiful Indian Almond Tree (Badami kayi mara) It had very long branches, and it covered the entire road. We had seen its broad, lovely leaves turn a striking red, fall off and cover the ground with a thick carpet. We saw the new green leaves sprout. And now, the foliage had thickened, and the shade under the tree was particularly inviting.
Just yesterday, on the way back, Puttachi had declared that it was her most favourite tree in the world, and that she would like to spread a mattress underneath it and go to sleep.
So, this morning, on our way to school, it was a shock for us to see that one of the tree's branches had snapped and fallen off, crushing a car underneath it, and blocking the whole road. And more importantly, for Puttachi, the sky was visible where there had been a canopy. Horrors. The dam burst and her tears flowed. "The tree is not dead, Puttachi, the branches were probably too heavy for the tree, that's all," I said, but she wouldn't listen. "My tree, my tree's shade!" she cried, and she went to school with a tear-stained face. Sigh!