On Delhi arbor.

[Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi]

The stage performer begins to dance. Arms whirl in widening circles, movements so rapid that they blur into a halo of motion, as if dozens of arms have suddenly surfaced.

That is what the pilkhan tree at the Shivaji Stadium bus terminus in Connaught Place (CP) feels like. Its numerous branches seem to multiply in the air, fanning outward in restless energy. In brief, the tree is extraordinary, demanding a concentrated viewing both from up close, and from across the road.

Up close, its architecture surprises the viewer. The trunk is massive in girth yet unexpectedly short, rising barely to knee-height before splintering into a network of sub-trunks. These sub-trunks climb a little higher and divide again, and then yet again, spreading unevenly into a nest of branches. When the viewer tilts back the head, all that is seen up there is a dense thicket of leafy branches. The sight truly resembles the whirring arms of a dancer.

Now, view the same tree from a distance, from across the road (be careful of the DTC buses as you cross the road). The drama intensifies. From this vantage point, the tree resembles a Diwali cracker bursting mid-air, exploding into thousands of sparks. Only here, the sparks are leaves, suspended in a green radiance.

Beneath the tree’s vast canopy thrives a holy world, including a Shiv mandir. Though closed this late afternoon, the sacred shivling remains visible through the iron grills. An adjoining metal board notes that the temple was established in 1988. A newer shrine dedicated to Hanuman ji has come up beside the Shiv Mandir. On another side of the trunk stands a shrine devoted to Shani Devta. A metal board hangs from a low branch, painted with the complete text of Shri Shani Dev ji ki Aarti.

Years ago, a chaat seller who administered his snack stall beneath the tree claimed he had planted the tree in 1993. If true, then this pilkhan shares a kinship with an equally magnificent pilkhan nearby, in CP’s F Block. That tree, too, has a short trunk that bifurcates into long, thick branches, each multiplying further in repetition. It was planted in 2001 by fruit-seller Kesar, who later became one of the victims of the Covid pandemic.

As afternoon transmutes into evening, and as the evening deepens, the rays of the setting sun strives to ram into the tree’s canopy. As a result… check out yourself.