For most of the year, this Kanchanar tree outside my window stands quietly — almost blending into the chaos of the city.
And then, just for a week or so at the beginning of summer, it transforms.

This afternoon , when I looked out of my window, the branches were suddenly bursting into soft pink blossoms — such a gentle, pleasant sight — as if the tree had been holding a secret all year… waiting for the right moment to reveal its beauty.

Nearly twenty years ago, it was only a fragile sapling planted by our chowkidar.
Years passed.
People moved on.
He too became a memory.

But the tree remained — growing slowly, watching the city change around it.
Where once there was more green, there is now more concrete.
Where there was silence, there is now constant noise.

And once, even this tree was almost taken away — when the Nagar Nigam marked it to be removed for widening the footpath.

Someone said, “It’s just a tree.”
But it never felt like just a tree.
It was shade on a harsh afternoon.
It was a quiet companion outside our windows.
It was a living reminder that nature still breathes in the middle of a busy chowk.

So in our own small way, we held on — a tiny Chipko moment, grateful to Sharma ji whose timely voice helped this tree stay rooted where it belongs.

And now, every summer when these delicate pink blossoms appear for those fleeting few days, the tree seems to whisper something very simple…

That beauty doesn’t need permanence to matter.
And that sometimes preserving a tree is simply preserving a little kindness towards the world we live in.

— Suvi’s Scribbles 🌸