Just behind my home, a giant peepul tree spreads its branches majestically around my house, and sitting beneath its whispering leaves every morning sipping my coffee, I watch my friends, the mynah couple, the crows with their cawing son Babu and squirrels who play hide and seek around my feet. A few slices of bread broken to little pieces from my kitchen are part of their breakfast.
Today in particular I stared at one chirpy little fellow, who appeared to be staring fixedly at me, “You like your home to be destroyed Bob?” the little squirrel asked.
“No!” I said, not pondering even a moment I was speaking back to a talking squirrel.
“Then why are you destroying mine?”
“Whoa! Whoa!” I said, “What are you talking about?”
“Look up!” said the squirrel, “At the tree that whispers into your ears. Do you know that half the happy sounds you hear from up there are we squirrels and birds and insects, content we have a home of our own?”
“Wonderful!” I said.
“And is this wonderful?” screamed the squirrel pointing at the newspaper I’d been reading, “that 3000 trees are going to be cut down for your Metro shed?”
Suddenly the leaves above from the giant peepul tree stopped rustling, the crows ceased their cawing and there was a pin drop silence which was finally broken by the deep baritone of the tree, “Bob have you ever thought that you people are the biggest hypocrites alive?”
“I think you’re going too far!” I said mildly.
“That on one hand you tell everybody not to eat animals, because you are a people who hate seeing animals killed, and then kill us by taking away our homes?”
“You like seeing us die?” shrieked the squirrel, “Do you know how many of us squirrels, birds, insects, and other animals live in the branches of each tree?”
“Would you like to hear your home being destroyed? Do you know how we shudder when the axe and now electrical saws bring down branches that hold our nests, often with young ones who can’t fly?”
“Who fall and die!” whispered Babu the young crow.
“I’m sorry!” I said, “Not for a moment did I think that cutting a tree or its branches was so bad!”
“Let us a destroy a few rooms of his house!” said the peepul tree, “Then he will know what it feels like!”
“No please!” I cried, and suddenly in my cry I heard a million birds, squirrels, crickets, other insects, crying in the same tone of terror, “Leave our homes alone!”
“Leave me alone!” sobbed my peepul tree, and suddenly those pieces of bread I’d strewn on the ground for them, seemed like thirty pieces of silver I’d used to fool them with, as I betrayed them..!

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