The newspaper slipped from the professor’s hand.
“The huge peepal tree fell by the cyclone in the old town of Bhubaneswar,” was the head line.
“Unimaginable,” exclaimed Prof. Jagannath Rout.
“What’s the news?Why are you so disturbed?”, asked his wife.
Vivid pictures of his childhood flashed in his minds eye reading about the fall of the historic tree.People said it’d been there for centuries.
And his heart skipped a beat , because what he saw once there , had a intense feeling of surprise and excitement , and fear.He had that secret inside his heart till then.But the heavyweight he was carrying till then ,became unbearable.
” How long ! Enough.”
******
He was nine years old then.He used to play hide and seek with his friends under the peepal tree everyday.After school till the evening, the little boys enjoyed playing under the thick foliage of the tree.The wind from the tree never made them feel tired.
He remembered, his Maa and grandmother have scolded him for playing there after school,many times.
“Don’t ever go near that peepal tree in the evening”, his Grandma had warned him several times.But he had laughed it away.
Children will be children.
One evening it so happed that his big toe got stuck between two rock slabs while running . Rock slabs were laid as flooring round the tree.When his friends tried to bring back the foot, it tore the big toe, and there was heavy bleeding.Friends ran to their homes to bring medicine , but nobody returned as it was already evening.
There was darkness everywhere.No moonlight ,as it was an Amavasya.
He started weeping loudly.His crying was more for fear ,than for the pain of the injury.
There at home, his mother and grandmother got worried.It was already dark and the child had not reached home.
With teary eyes,when he looked at the trunk of the tree to ask it for help, a big face appeared on it .A chill ran through his spine..He closed his eyes in extreme fear.He then heard an echoing voice, “I will fall oneday in a cyclone.Listen and remember,there is a pot full with gold coins, buried deep down my roots.They belong to the Odia king of yore.”
He was almost going to faint, while combined voice calling “Jaga o Jaga where are you ” entered his ears.
“Baba”, he called out loudly and emphatic, “I am under the tree Baba”
His father along with his neighbours and with a lantern , arrived at the spot. The father carried him on his shoulders and took him home.
Puja -path continued at home for a week, along with the treatment with medicines.He became completely fit .He wanted to go to school.
But not his previous school.His father had admitted him to a school in the new Bhubaneswar,the capital city of the state.He also had rented a house there to live.They hated to stay at the old town after the mishap.
***********
He called his wife.
“Sudha , is breakfast ready?
I will go to the Collector ‘s office.”
The retired professor of History thought he had to solve what the face on the tree told him.
“Listen and remember.”
Inside the car his mind was in turmoil.
“Did the tree know I would read history.
Ha, everything in life happens for a purpose ,”he muttered .
He gave a chit to the peon at the office,” Dr Jagannath Rout, Retired professor of History, Utkal University.”
He was immediately called inside.
The young collector stood up with a Namaskar and offered him a seat.”Sir, you are here.Please tell me what can I do for you.”
“Yes ofcourse.You can do a lot for me I have come regarding the uprooted vintage peepal tree.I read in the newspaper, the administration had protected the tree .Please keep guard over it twenty four hours.As you know,, I have done research on temples and heritage trees around Bhubaneswar.”
“Yes sir.I have gone through many of your research papers.They are simply brilliant.You had got doctorate on it Sir”
“Will you allow me fifteen days to study this tree.However, I had missed this one by mistake.My intuition forces me to study it properly.May be we find astonishment under the deep pit .”
How can he mutter what he saw and heard fifty six years ago.Will an educated IAS officer believe in it”?
“Give me five days Sir.I would consult with the Archeological department and let you know.”
In the meantime tea and fried cashews had already arrived.The professor munched the cashews happily.
We know that the Collector kept his words .A research is being carried out in a great scale by Dr Jagannath Rout .
The results are yet to come.
History, you are always a mystery.
