CHERRY TREE : RUSKIN BOND \ C B S E 6

          

THE STORY:

 One day, when Rakesh was six, he walked from the Missouri bazaar eating cherries. They were a little sweet, a little sour; small, bright red cherry, which had come all the way from the Kashmir valley.

Here in the Himalayan foothills where Rakesh lived, there were not many fruit trees. The soil was stony, and the dry cold winds stunted the growth of most plants. But on the more sheltered slopes there were forests of oak and deodar.

Rakesh lived with his grandfather on the outskirts of Missouri, just where the forest began.

Grandfather was a retired forest ranger. He had a little cottage outside the town.

Rakesh was on his way home from school when he bought the cherries. He paid fifty paisa for the bunch. It took him about half an hour to walk home, and by the time he reached the cottage there were only three cherries left.

‘Have a cherry, grandfather,’ he said, as soon as he saw grandfather in the garden.

Grand father took one cherry and Rakesh promptly ate the other two. He kept the last seed in his mouth for some time, rolling it round and round on his tongue until all the tang had gone. Then he placed the seed on the palm of his hand and studied it.

‘Are cherry seeds lucky?’ asked Rakesh.

‘Of  course.’

‘Nothing is lucky if you put it away. If you want luck, you must put it to some use.’

‘What can I do with a seed?’

‘Plant it.’

So Rakesh found a small spade and began to dig up a flower-bed.

‘Hey, not there,’ said grandfather. ‘I’ve sown mustard in that bed. Plant it in that shady corner, where it won’t be disturbed.’

Rakesh went to a corner of the garden where the earth was soft and yielding. He did not have to dig. He pressed the seed into the soil with his thumb and it went right in.

Then he had his lunch, and ran off to play cricket with his friends, and forgot all about the cherry seed.

When it was winter in the hills, a cold wind blew down from the snows and went whoo-whoo-whoo in the deodar trees, and the garden was dry and bare. In the evenings grandfather and Rakesh sat over a charcoal fire, and grandfather told Rakesh stories – stories about people who turned into animals, and ghosts who lived in trees, and beans that jumped and stones that wept – and in turn Rakesh would read to him from the newspaper, Grandfather’s eyesight being rather weak. Rakesh found the newspaper very dull – especially after the stories – but grandfather wanted all the news…

They knew it was spring when the wild duck flew north again, to Siberia. Early in the morning, when he got up to chop wood and light a fire, Rakesh saw the V shaped formation streaming northwards and heard the calls of birds clearly through the thin mountain air.

One morning in the garden he bent to pick up what he thought was a small twig and found to his surprise that it was well rooted. He stared at it for a moment, then ran to fetch grandfather, calling, ‘Dada, come and look, the cherry tree has come up!’

‘What cherry tree?’ Asked grandfather, who had forgotten about it?

‘The seed we planted last year – look, it’s come up!’

Rakesh went down on his haunches, while Grandfather bent almost double and peered down at the tiny tree. It was about four inches high.

‘Yes, it’s a cherry tree,’ said grandfather. ‘You should water it now and then.’

Rakesh ran indoors and came back with a bucket of water.

‘Don’t drown it!’ said grandfather.

Rakesh gave it a sprinkling and circled it with pebbles. ’what are the pebbles for?’ asked grandfather.

‘For privacy,’ said Rakesh.

He looked at the tree every morning but it did not seem to be growing very fast. So he stopped looking at it – except quickly, out of the corner of his eye. And, after a week or two, when he allowed himself to look at it properly, he found that it had grown – at least an inch!

That year the monsoon rains came early and Rakesh plodded to and from school in rain coat and gum boots. Ferns sprang from the trunks of trees, strange looking lilies came up in the long grass, and even when it wasn’t raining the trees dripped and mist came curling up the valley. The cherry tree grew quickly in this season.

It was about two feet high when a goat entered the garden and ate all the leaves. Only the main stem and two thin branches remained.

‘Never mind,’ said grandfather, seeing that Rakesh was upset. ‘It will grow again: cherry trees are tough.’

Towards the end of the rainy season new leaves appeared on the tree. Then a woman cutting the grass cut the cherry in two.

When grandfather saw what had happened, he went after the woman and scolded her; but the damage could not be repaired.

‘May be it will die now,’ said Rakesh.

‘May be,’ said grandfather.

But the cherry tree had no intention of dying.

By the time summer came round again, it had sent several new shoots with tender green leaves. Rakesh had grown taller too. He was eight now, a sturdy boy with curly black hair and deep black eyes. ‘Blackberry,’ grandfather called them.

That monsoon Rakesh went home to his village, to help his father and mother with the planting and ploughing and sowing. He was thinner but stronger when he came back to his grandfather’s house at the end of rains, to find that cherry tree had grown another foot. It was now up to his chest.

Even when there was rain, Rakesh would sometimes water the tree. He wanted it to know that he was there.

One day he found a bright green praying mantis perched on a branch, peering at him with bulging eyes. Rakesh let it remain there. It was the cherry tree’s first visitor.

The next visitor was a hairy caterpillar, who started making a meal of the leaves. Rakesh removed it quickly and dropped it on a heap of dry leaves.

‘Come back when you are a butterfly,’ he said.

Winter came early. The cherry tree bent low with the weight of snow. Field mice sought shelter in the roof of the cottage. The road from the valley was blocked, and for several days there was no newspaper, and this made grandfather quite grumpy. His stories began to have unhappy endings.

In February it was Rakesh’s birthday. He was nine – and the tree was four, but almost as tall as Rakesh.

One morning, when the sun came out, Grandfather came into the garden. ‘Let some warmth get into my bones,’ he said. He stopped in front of the cherry tree, stared at it for a few moments, and then called out, ‘Rakesh! Come and look! Come quickly before it falls!’

Rakesh and grandfather gazed at the tree as though it had performed a miracle. There was a pale pink blossom at the end of a branch.

The following year there were more blossoms. And suddenly the tree was taller than Rakesh, even though it was less than half his age. And then it was taller than grandfather, who was older than some of the oak trees.

But Rakesh had grown too. He could run and jump and climb trees as well as most boys, and he read a lot of books, although he still liked listening grandfather’s tales.

In the cherry tree, bees came to feed on the nectar in the blossoms, and tiny birds pecked at the blossoms and broke them off. But the tree kept blossoming right through the spring, and there were always more blossoms than birds.

That summer there were small cherries on the tree. Rakesh tasted one and spat it out.

‘It’s too sour,’ he said.

‘They‘ll be better next year,’ said grandfather.

But the birds liked them – especially the bigger birds, such as the bulbuls and scarlet minivets – and they flitted in and out of the foliage, feasting on the cherries.

On a warm sunny afternoon, when even the bees looked sleepy, Rakesh was looking for grandfather without finding him in any of his favorite places around the house. Then he looked out of the bed room window and saw grandfather reclining on a cane chair under the cherry tree.

‘There is just the right amount of shade here,’ said grandfather. ‘And I like looking at the leaves.’

‘They’re pretty leaves,’ said Rakesh. ‘And they are always ready to dance, if there’s breeze.’

After grandfather had come indoors, Rakesh went into the garden and lay down on the grass beneath the tree. He gazed up through the leaves at the great blue sky; and turning on his side, he could see the mountain striding away into the clouds. He was still lying beneath the tree when the evening shadows crept across the garden. Grandfather came back and sat down beside the Rakesh, and they waited in silence until it was dark.

‘There are so many trees in the forest,’ said Rakesh. ‘What’s so special about this tree? Why do we like it so much?’

‘We planted it ourselves,’ said grandfather. ‘That’s why it’s special.’

‘Just one small seed,’ said Rakesh, and he touched the smooth bark of the tree that had grown. He ran his hand along the trunk of the tree and put his finger to the tip of a leaf. ‘I wonder,’ he whispered.        ‘Is this what it feels to be God?’

1. With whom did Rakesh live?
2. There were very few trees where Rakesh lived. Why?
3. Why did Rakesh lived away from his native village?
4. With what did one day Rakesh came home?
5. Why did Rakesh reach home with only a few cherry?
6. How did Rakesh get the cherries ?
7. What did Rakesh do with the last seed ?
8. Why did Rakesh keep the seed?
9. Why did Rakesh promptly eat two cherries?
10. Where did Rakesh go to dig the soil?
11. Why did Rakesh not have to dug the soil?
12. How did the seed go right into the soil?
13. Why did Rakesh forget all about cherry?
14. When did Rakesh find that the seed is well rooted ?
15. Why did Rakesh go to fetch his grandfather?
16. What was the advice of Rakesh's grandfather ?
17. Why did Rakesh ran indoor?
18. Rakesh circled the twig with pebbles to
19. Why did Rakesh sprinkle water?
20. When did the growth of the plant sped up?
21. Why did the tree attracted perils?
22 .In monsoon Rakesh went to his parents. Why?
23.When did the cherry tree grew up to Rakesh's chest?
24.Even when it rained Rakesh watered the plant.Why
25.Who was the first visitor of the cherry tree ?
26. How did the second visitor harm the cherry tree ?
27. Whom did Rakesh say to come back and when to come back ?
28. Why did Grandfather come to the garden?
29. Why did Grandfather call out Rakesh?
30. Rakesh touched the bark and how did he feel?
31. Why did Rakesh love the tree so much?
32. Where is The above text taken from?
33. How did Rakesh express his love for the cherry tree ?
34. What similarity did Rakesh find between himself and God ?
35. Why does Rakesh's feeling remind that of God’s?
36. How did Rakesh feel after touching the tree?

The Cherry Tree : POEM

Eight years have passed
Since I placed my cherry seed in the grass.
Must have a tree of my own,' I said,
And watered it once and went to bed
And forgot; but cherries have a way of growing,
Though no one's caring very much or knowing.
And suddenly that summer near the end of May,
I found a tree had come to stay.
It was very small, five months child.
Lost in the tall grass running wild.
Goats ate the leaves, the grass cutter's scythe
Split it apart and a monsoon blight
Shrivelled the slender stem...... Even so,
Next spring I watched three new shoots grow,
The young tree struggle, upward thrust
Its arms in a fresh fierce lust
For light and air and sun.
I could only wait, as one
Who watched, wandering, while Time and the rain
Made a miracle from green growing pain.
I went away next year-
Spent a season in Kashmir-
Came back thinner, rather poor,
Dut richer by a cherry tree at my door.
Six feet high my own dark cherry,

 

And-I could searcely believe it-a berry.
Ripended and jewelled in the sun,
Hung from a branch-just onel
And next year there were blossoms small
Pink, fragile, quick to fall
At the merest breath, the sleepiest breeze..
I lay on the grass, at ease,
Looking up through leaves at the blue
Blind sky, at the finches as they flew
And flitted through the dappled green.
While bees in an ecstasy drank
Of nectar from each bloom and the sun sank
Swiftly, and the stars turned in the sky,
And moon-moths and singing crickets and I-
Yes, I-praised Night and Stars and tree:

SUMMARY / SYNOPSIS of the poem CHERRY TREE:

The poem Cherry Tree is about an overwhelming joy of the poet over a plant which he has planted few years back. In the poem, Ruskin Bond is surprised to witness how nature brought up the plant like a child. Eight year ago, the poet planted a cherry seed. The young poet watered it daily and without any special attention or nursing, by the end of May, the poet saw the small cherry sapling coming out of the ground. It was very small plant, young and fragile. Tall wild grasses grew all around it and ‘the goats’ ate its ‘leaves’. One day the grass cutter’s scythe  ‘split it apart’. After all these, the poet saw new shoots growing out of it as the young tree made its struggle against all odds and survive .

The poet was too surprised to how his small cherry plant blossoming into a tree. Time and Nature nourished like own child. Then the poet  bid adieu to his beloved tree and went to Kashmir to spend a season there. The poet returned after a few months poor in health and heart but was overjoyed to find a ‘six feet high’ dark cherry tree. To his disbelief, he saw a small berry fruit hanging from a branch, ‘Hung from a branch—just one! a small little pink and fragile berry that could fall at the single stir of wind.

In his ecstasy, the poet “lay on the grass” whole day at leisure looking up to the cherry tree as the “finches” flew past. The birds flocked in and out of the tree and the bees drank nectar from each ‘bloom’. Soon it was dark and stars lit the whole night sky and the ‘moon-moths’ and crickets sang. Then the poet felt charmed and wondered at his own creation. The small cherry plant that has grown into a big tree over the span of eight years. In the ending couplet, the poet is proud of being part of it. He has the feelings of a creator and it very special among all other trees in the garden.

 

 Vocabulary-

 scythe – a tool with a long curved blade at right angle to a long handle used to cut long grass and grain. 

 

blight – a plant disease, typically one caused by fungi such as mildews, rusts, and smuts

 shrivelled – dried or wrinkled or shrunken due to lack of moisture

 slender – thin, struggle – making forceful against odds

 thrust – to push with sudden impulse or force

 fierce – aggressive

 lust – strong desire

 miracle – a welcoming or happy event developing by chance that cannot be explained with reason or science

 scarcely – almost not

 ripened (ripen)– become or make ripe

 jeweled – adorned with jewels

 blossoms – flowers that bloom on trees

 fragile – weak

 finches – a small pas serine bird

 flitted – pass lightly, softly or rapidly

 dappled – marked with rounded dark patches

 ecstasy – a feeling of greatest happiness

 nector – a sweet fluid secreted by flowers/ honey

 moon-moths – a large pale long green moth