Autobiography of a Banyan Tree [PDF Available]

Advertisement

The banyan tree is the king of the forest, today in this autobiography presentation we are covering a topic that is An Autobiography of a Banayan tree, I hope you like the autobiography, so let’s jump in!

This Autobiography is Formatted For Class 5 | Class 6 | Class 7 | Class 8 | Class 9 | Class 10 | Class 11 | Class 12
Autobiography of a Banyan Tree feature image

Some call me the king of the forest, others call me Buddha’s tree. But generally, I am known as the banyan tree. Over the years, humans have come to symbolize me with life teachings of their own.

While some say I represent the Hindu deity Brahma the creator as I symbolize longevity, other people say that I symbolize the God of the dead, Yama, as I do not let any other being grow on my grounds and my roots and branches are all-consuming.

I live by the outskirts of a town. It has been a very long time since I was born and to be honest I do not know when my date of birth is. But, I do remember growing up in the crevice of a fig tree.

Advertisement

Why, the old accommodating sweet tree was more than happy to provide me with the nutrients a growing body needs as he sourced water and food for me and looked after me, saving my vulnerable shoot from the likes of birds, insects, animals, humans, and drastic weather conditions.

Slowly, I started gaining my strength and aiding the fig tree in return. My roots had found their hold on the fertile ground while my branches rose out like an elliptical canopy of a young tree.

I am stationary and unlike the other trees, I do not fly about when the wind blows or let my leaves soar in the evening breeze. While I may not be able to speak to anyone directly or let them know of my thoughts, I am glad that I can be there for them.

Over the years, I have gradually learned various different languages from listening to humans going past. Some even take a while and sit by my shade to rest and talk to themselves to while their time away or to clear their heads. Whilst they might not know, I always stay to hear them out attentively.

Visa Guide:  Autobiography of a Street or Stray Dog [With PDF]

And I know I cannot console them or guide them directly, but I try to make them feel safer and try to give them a safe place to talk about their wrongdoings and worries in and about their lives. When they cry, I try to shield them from the eyes of others.

When they laugh I shake my branches and let leaves rain on them to help celebrate their joy. And although you may never get to hear my words directly, come near me and sit by me. Put your ear close to my core and you can get a glimpse of my feelings.

Growing up, I have always been aided by multiple forces. The sun helped me make my food, the clouds carried water for me, the soil provided nutrients and replenished my thirst on a daily and all of them continue to do so.

While I could never move about, the soft breezes and the strong winds that went about town would gather the news, the stories and the current situation around town and they would glide past me, whispering secrets that they had found.

Often, people think that the quiet one who sits by a corner has no involvement in their society and that they do not know anything. But here I exist to prove the exact opposite. Despite sitting far, far away from the rest of the crowd, away from the rest of the city, I happen to know the most of what happens around town.

People realize that it is in the nature of others to keep talking and spill secrets that were never meant to be told again. But with me, I am all ears, away from the center and they trust me enough to not divulge their fantasies and dreams to anyone else. As I stay growing and branching farther, I root myself deeper into the soil and deeper into the lives of others.

Visa Guide:  Autobiography of a Pen [PDF]

There comes a small child of six who sits and talks about his dreams of becoming a chef. His family does not earn enough to support his dreams and they believe the only way he can support them is by becoming a mechanic.

At this mere age, he cries into my arms as he convinces himself every day that not all dreams come to fruition. And I wish every day that I had arms that could hug him back and tell him to not give up on his dream.

I wish I could tell him to go ahead and support his family but to also always lookout for an opportunity to realize his dreams and to keep working towards it.

Then there’s the young lady who dreams of going to pilot school someday. She hopes to fly among the stars and dive through the clouds. Just recently, she came running and hugged my bark, jumping up and down, excited beyond limits.

She had finally convinced her parents to let her go. The rest of the family may have different viewpoints and her aunt would create a huge commotion according to her but as long as she has the support of her parents, she is ready to brave it all.

And I wish I could tell her someday, that after she leaves, I would be looking up at the sky every day and night, trying to catch a glimpse of a young girl who grew by my side and who I have seen soar to greater heights.

As the days turn into months and months turn into a year, I keep growing farther and farther. At times I wonder that if I keep growing at the rate that I do currently, I will reach the city bounds within no time.

But I must say, I feel like I have aged a bit and life has caught on to me as nowadays my energy diminishes fast and Bram he’s become weak and frail.

A few weeks back I almost befell a tragedy of sorts. According to the work plan of the new town society, they would be creating a highway that crosses past the town outskirts to reduce traffic. Imagine my joy when I heard the news as I realized now I would get to see many people and that I would get to learn so much more.

Visa Guide:  Autobiography of a Bridge (Howrah Bridge) [2000 Words]

But to my disappointment and fear, I saw a bulldozer approaching my area followed by a white van. I assumed they must have gotten it to start digging the road. So then imagine my shock when I realize that the bulldozer was instead coming near me to uproot me from my place of birth.

As they claw sunk under my newly formed roots on to the outer edge, I cried out in pain. While none may have heard my voice, I pleaded to the sky and the earth to help me out. How could they disregard my existence and disrespect me so much so as to kill me out in broad daylight and displace from my birthright?

My roots held on steadfast to the ground as the machine approached me again. Due to the loud noise of the bulldozer, some villagers got intrigued and came to see what was happening. Imagine my surprise when I saw within minutes à huge group of people running towards the bulldozer, shouting at the tip of their lungs to make him stop.

The numbers just kept growing as more and more people joined in and started shouting at the officials for trying to uproot me. They claimed that I was a part of the town and the village and that nobody could ever uproot me till the day I die.

I did not know what to do as an overwhelming feeling of happiness and peace washed over me. While I may have never been able to talk to my loved ones, my feelings had got across. I am a banyan tree, and this is my life story.


So how was this autobiography on a banyan tree? Please share your thoughts in the comment section!

Advertisement