Over the new year, my friends and colleagues in Göteborg shared news that vividly showcased the tableau of life, i.e. of births and deaths.

Coincidentally, I learnt from my brother that the coconut tree in the front yard of our Madurai home was finally felled last week.

Since the death of Paandi, the sole coconut picker in the neighbourhood, clusters of coconuts hung precariously from the twenty metre tall trees in TVS Nagar and Alagappan Nagar. One could see that they were ripened, and ready to let go of their attachment to the woody stem to which they once clung to very strongly.

And, our own tree in Sri Saraswathi Niwas was not an exception. It posed a health and safety risk to the passers-by – the children playing/cycling in the evening, the fruit and vegetable sellers trudging their carts, the post person and the milk boy on their bicycles and the stray dogs that run after them, and numerous salespersons who hawk various accoutrements on top of their voices convincing many a housewife that their merchandises will free up time and allowing them to watch their favourite television shows more relaxed!

We certainly do not want the coconuts or the fronds to fall on our sought after salesperson, right?

And that’s been a conundrum for many years, i.e. to fell or not to fell. Appa and my brother knew that they would be taking a grave risk if they let nature take its course, even though Appa’s friend, cited an urban legend, when my brother and I went to his place, that no one has ever died from a falling coconut!

Yes, it is a sad moment to see a tall and broad tree, that had taken 30 years to reach its current height, being felled.

The same tree that once stood so flamboyantly, splaying wide its accordion like fronds, and which bent backwards to protect itself when strong winds pummelled its top, only to emerge victorious once the wind ceases, as a hero would emerge after a fierce battle.

That tree’s been cut down now finally, laid to the ground, coconuts harvested, branches snapped, leaves stripped and strewn at the back of a pickup van, to be burnt, or to be made into brooms. We also wiped away an entire ecosystem that was once housed in this tree’s canopy: that of squirrels, birds, insects, and the occasionally stray monkeys which had lost their way from Thiruparangunram.

However sad it was, the residents of Sri Saraswathi Niwas shall always remember the countless coconuts the tree has yielded, the barrels of coconut oil that has been squeezed out of the dried coconut flesh when the kopperei was taken in my brother’s car car to an oil mill in our ancestral village.

It is only befitting that we convey our sincere thank yous to the tree for its many years of service.