The Age-Old Banyan Tree Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

The old banyan tree
Under whose cool shade
Children used to play,
Birds used to chirp and fly,
Wayfarers used to sit
Now exists it not
The old banyan tree,
Has been cut down
As for the roadway,
The new house to be made
The big old tree
Under whose shade
Children used to swing and play
Holding and hanging by
The aerial roots,
Some rooted into the earth
Like the trunk of the elephant
Or as if some saint were sitting under
And when it used to grow dark,
People used to fear to pass by
In those days
When the villages used to be
Thinly populated
And without the light
People used to attach the spooky tales
Of dead souls hanging by aerial roots,
I mean ghosts and goblins
And we used to dread so much,
Hearing them
Trying to make afraid of
Or as for their ends
Or maybe it one feels on finding one alone,
Whatever be that,
Gathering courage the timid used to run by
To cross over to
Avoiding and averting the gaze
In those old days
When areas used to be away from human haunt
And full of green covers,
Birds, beasts and flowers,
But how has it changed now,
Our memory and reflection
In relocating landmarks?