Malhar opened the gate of the house; he was holding a stainless-steel broad utensil   to receive milk from the milkman. The milkman carefully poured the milk in the container using the 300 ml measuring handle glass.
Malhar noticed an orange black coloured football lying near the family oak tree. It belonged to his younger brother Pran. It was lying near the family oak tree in front of the house. Malhar went inside and came back out to get the ball.
This was Malhar’s family home which has stood here for almost a hundred and eighty years. Malhar’s family had bought it from the previous owner at a good price. Malhar’s family owned a lot more land in this area once but all that remained now was the land on which the huge house stood and the long stretch of land across the road in front on which stood the huge oak tree. Even Malhar’s grandfather had played around the tree as a boy.
Malhar picked up the ball.
“Good. I was worried that someone might take it and run away,” came Pran’s voice
Malhar looked up to find his brother sitting on one of the branches of the oak tree which had spread its branches into an art. Malhar was in the first year of college while his younger brother was still in school.
“If you were worried then why didn’t come down and take it?” asked Malhar
“Then, I would have to climb down and climb up again,” replied Pran
Pran loved climbing and he loved climbing this tree the most.
“All this boy lacks is the tail of a monkey,” once their grandmother had said when Pran tried to jump from the sofa and hang on to the curtain raid but he came falling down, along with the curtain.
Malhar didn’t say anything and went inside with the ball.
“Where is he?” asked Malhar’s mother Mrs Nair
“On the tree,” replied Malhar
Mrs Nair turned to her husband and said, “I have asked him so many times not to climb that tree. He does it again and again because you don’t say anything. One day he will fall down and everyone will blame me.”
Mr Nair who was reading a book looked at his wife and said, “You are getting worried for no reason, nothing will happen. I used to climb that tree too. It is as safe to climb as trees can be.”
“Why can’t he just play more football with his friends or play games on the computer? I mean the things children normally do..” said Mrs Nair
“This is what children normally used to do once instead of playing games on computer,” said Mr Nair a little sternly to which Mrs Nair did not respond
Malhar had never climbed the tree; he had never tried it despite his late grandfather’s attempt to motivate him.
“You know Malhar,” Malhar’s grandfather had told him one day in the past, “climbing a tree can strengthen your arms and legs and also improve your grip. Your body will have increased strength and flexibility.” However, Malhar had decided to keep following his regular exercise routine.
Malhar’s grandfather was right though, Malhar observed that Pran had more strength and stamina than he himself did at his age.
“Have you ever climbed a tree?” Malhar asked his college friend Kailash while eating poha in the college canteen
“No, I haven’t,” said Kailash, “never found the tree or the opportunity”
“If you would have found it.. I mean the tree. Would you have..”
“Maybe,” said Kailash, “now that you have said it, I think it does feel more interesting than before”
After returning from college in the evening Malhar stood in front of the tree and decided he would do it. He started slowly placing the feet with assurance of not falling and he was doing well till one of his feet lost grip and he almost fell.
Malhar got down and started walking away in frustration but then he turned and ran towards the tree in a desperate attempt to place a foot on the lower trunk of the tree and push himself with a jump to reach one of the higher branches. He did reach the branch but only with a slight touch before falling down.
“You know if you want to learn how to climb, I could show you,” came Pran’s voice as Malhar got up
Malhar kept quiet for a while before looking at Pran and said “okay, teach me tomorrow”. Pran smiled and Malhar imagined somewhere his grandfather did as well.
Written by Anuran Chatterji
Early Morning Memories 
One response to “Before the climb 🪜”
This is a sweet story.
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