Tree

The tree stood in solidarity. Amidst the bustling life of the restless town, it perched upon a patch of green. It looked so disoriented, so lonely, so out of place. Although he had the distinguished opportunity to be the first tree among his cousins to fly first class to Asia, on which he had recieved many congratulations, he was not pleased. Upon reaching the shores of Singapore, he was immediately brought to the middle of town and set up on his feet by the workers. Yes, it did feel good to have man at his command, to hoist him with all their might under the scorching sun. Yet, despite feeling mightier than man, he missed his family ever since he got here a month ago.

He had been surrounded by trees of his height or taller since he landed. However, he made no attempt to associate himslef with these so-called local Asian superior breed despite their friendliness. To him, they were of an inferior breed. Pooh! Who could be better than a true blue American tree like him? From where he stood, he say skyscrapers of many different colours. He snorted in disgust since he never favoured concrete artificial buildings smeared with paints of all sorts for product differentiation. Roads ran by, buses passed with loads of passengers. People from all walks of life streamed across, dressed in the latest fashion of the season. Adults, teenagers, all clad in brightly lit colours as though they were walking neon lights of sorts, but it did not appeal to him. Afterall, he was a redwood tree, grown and bred and cherished in America. What was Asia to him? He had roots superior to most of those walking down Orchard Road anyway.

He became the apple of the public's eye during the festive season. Headlines announced his arrival, "The Tree specially brought in from America for Christmas and New Year!" Everyone clamoured for a better look of the tree; countless pictures were snapped around him, children ran around getting a feel of nature in the city-- pictures taken and memories were left behind. That was when he was still alive.

Now, he was past his prime. Gone was his heyday when he deserved every bit of praise and goodwill shown to him. He withered under the hot scorching sun of the Asian tropics. He needed the cool weather badly, but no sympathy was shown to him. The only consolation was the occasional breeze and the infrequent rain. But, even that was not enough to sustain him. He could feel his leaves withering, his branches drying up, most importantly, he felt that his life and spirit taken out from him. He aged with the days; he knew that he was dying-- the only query was when.

He knew that the day had come when two men armed with a machine and big sturdy arms approached him. Using technology, they were lifted to the crown of the tree and from then which, they started dismantling the decorations on the tree. To the two men, to the people, the tree had served its purpose as a decorative ornament. It was there to boost the Christmas festive mood and for the New Year. They had no more use for it. Unknown to it, the men at the refinery had been getting ready for its arrival-- they were going to saw the withering tree into pieves to be autioned for charity. "The Californian Redwood tree which saw Singapore through the Millennium", its plague would read.

Slowly, the decorations untwirled around the tree. The breeze came again but this time, it blew many yellow leaves across the field. It was as if the tree was sobbing gently, bemoaning its fate. The leaves dropped like tears of pain as he got ready for the final call.

Kai 2000