One man turn the heat into cool
Road from Sulur to Selakarichal village is dusty and arid. A dull brown cloud rises up every time a vehicle passes by. The summer sun beats harshly. And, then, you sight an oasis — a village sits pretty, treetops dancing merrily in a breeze that seems its exclusive preserve. The residents of Selakarichal village, about 35 km from Coimbatore, have one man to thank for this — retired headmaster A.S. Velusamy.Fourteen years ago, Selakarichal was yet another village with exactly two trees to its name. Water was a problem, and there was nothing to shelter the land from the harsh rays of the sun. And then, Velusamy happened. A socially conscious headmaster at the Panchayat Union Middle School, Kalangal, he had always tried to get his wards to appreciate Nature. The first tree he raised was the one planted the day former Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated. It soon perished, but a “green” idea was born.
He planted a second sapling, a Flame of the Forest, on Rajiv Gandhi’s first death anniversary. That tree is now in full bloom. And, all the villagers dote on it. “That’s because this tree saved 20 lives,” says Velusamy, 71, patting a hollow in the trunk, from where a huge branch was wrenched off. “The brakes of a lorry parked nearby failed, and it started moving towards the bus stand, where 20 people were waiting. The lorry hit the branch with a thud, alerting people, and the branch gave way after a while,” he says, his eyes brimming over.Taking to it fulltime
After his retirement in 1993, Velusamy took to planting sapling fulltime. For this retired headmaster, trees are his children now. He has three daughters, all married. His wife, Chinnamaal, mostly understands his passion to plant saplings.
After his retirement in 1993, Velusamy took to planting sapling fulltime. For this retired headmaster, trees are his children now. He has three daughters, all married. His wife, Chinnamaal, mostly understands his passion to plant saplings.
Every morning, for the last 15-odd years, he has been up at the crack of dawn. After tending to some chores at his farm, he walks with his rundown 1957-model Arihant bicycle (bought with his first salary) for nearly two km to say “hello” to the more than 700 trees he has raised. Young saplings are spoken to in encouragement, and a tree that has burst forth with flowers is patted affectionately. Only when he sees a wilting tree is Velusamy shaken. “Will you not feel bad if your young one is ready to leave the world?” he asks.
He has so far planted more than a thousand saplings, dipping into his pension funds. Helping Velusamy is 72-year-old Palani Gounder, a former coolie, who creates beds for the saplings, waters them, and does everything he can to make Velusamy’s task easier.From the 15 per cent he earmarks from his monthly pension (approximately Rs. 2,000), Velusamy has planted the shade-giving pungan (Pongamia pinnata), banyan, golden shower tree (Cassia fistula), n Lilac. A couple of manoranjitham (Artobotrys odorotissimus) saplings that give out heady-smelling flowers have been planted too.
And, despite the water shortage, he manages to water the trees every day. “I wait near the village tap. Women fight with me, because they know the water is for the plants. But, they love the shade the trees give,” he smiles wryly.Proud achievement Over a hundred plants have perished, but the ones that survive have enriched the lives of the villagers. It is noon and the sun is blinding, but birds fly in and out of the fruit-laden banyan trees raised by Velusamy. Occasionally, migratory birds too fly in. Walking around, Velusamy points to the beds he has readied for planting in June and October-November. Usually, he buys saplings from the farm run by the Forest Department in Mettupalayam.
This year, local organisations such as Siruthuli, working to green Coimbatore, and a few conscientious corporates have promised help. Many of the villagers too support his mission. S.A. Mani Mohan, a former councillor, happily offers the 60-odd kg of tea dust generated by his tea stall to Velusamy. Palani Gounder faithfully apportions this nourishing mixture among the trees. S. Mohan Raj, a farmer, has extended the drip irrigation in his farm to the five trees growing nearby.
The trees have also proved a boon to nomads. Iswari, whose husband reads horoscopes, has made her home below a neem and a jamun tree. Cradles strung up from the sturdy branches hold her children, while the broken twigs and dry leaves help in her cooking. K. Rangarajan, a social worker and member of the village panchayat, says mild-mannered Velusamy gets angry only when people fell a branch or a tree. “If at all a branch has to be cut, he is at hand to ensure it does not suffer much.”
Of all the trees Velusamy has raised, the most special is the banyan. “A proverb goes thus: Its seed is smaller than a fish egg, but when it grows, it can provide shade to a king and his four armies,” he narrates.If there is one thing that this crusader would like to change, it is the lack of awareness about Nature among youngsters. “They can’t even identify trees by their local names; something must be done to get them to love Nature,” he says. Trees love human contact, he insists. “When you look fondly at a tree, it nods; when you touch it, it is thrilled! What can get more satisfying?”India Beats features stories of the unusual, the exotic and the extraordinary.
