The Old Tree

There was this old big tree. It stood by for a long time. No one really knew who planted it, no one knew who nourished and  grew it. But the people around it did water it from time to time. A few came to pluck its fruits, a few came to enjoy its shade, a few needed a place to pee. But to most, the tree was just there… it was a reality of that place, It was the landmark of that place. But there was something wrong.

It was a sick tree. Its roots were deep, dry and rotting.

Some said , its rotten to the core. Burn down the whole thing… it isn't worth saving… we don’t need a tree. The fruits numb you. We should learn to live without it.

Some said, uproot and throw it away. Rotten roots give poisonous fruit, the shade will whiter away. Let's get rid of this, and plant a new tree. A good tree, with sweet fruit. It will take time; but it shall be worth it. It'll be better than this rotten tree.

Some said, the fruit is already sweet, the shade is cool and large. Let us fix the rotting roots with care. It shall take even longer, but it shall provide shade throughout, the effort shall be worth it.   

And some said, there's hardly anything wrong with it. A few blemishes on stem, leaves or the fruit perhaps… nothing a few sprays can't fix, nothing major. It's mostly fine.

They keep talking about it. Each one does their own thing.

The tree also does its thing.

The tree keeps changing.