Grand old banyan tree under garbage attack

It’s been there for about 150 years. The banyan tree, with its calming presence and slender aerial shoots touching the ground, stood at the embankment of Ambazari tank in Nagpur as a landmark; refuge to some, spectacle for others. Birds made it their habitat.

Then it turned into a garbage dump and a hook to hang for political hoardings. Today, the tree with a 37-foot girth stands leafless, dry and nearly dead — a symbol of crass common neglect.

A group of young environmentalists is trying to save the tree from becoming history. Its decay, they say, began 10 years ago when the city got new wide roads.

“Three months ago, we were hopeful,” said a frustrated Shrikant Deshpande, staring at the tree he claims is the seniormost tree of the orange city. “Its revival seems difficult,” he said. Deshpande runs the Nature Conservation Association in Nagpur and runs a crusade for protection and preservation of old and new trees.

“A truckful of garbage, plastic bags and filth rotted around its foundation,” said Swanand Soni, another environmentalist. “Garbage burnt its roots and chocked it”.

The irrevocable fate of the banyan tree is part of the bigger problem. The fifth greenest city of the country, conservationists say, is rapidly losing its old trees. When the integrated road development project was implemented in 1999-2000, the orange city got a facelift, but lost hundreds of trees overnight.

“Road widening,” said the Nagpur Municipal Corporation (NMC) garden superintendent Naresh Shrikhande, “hurt lots of trees”. But he would not comment on the banyan tree’s fate. The city would be losing roughly 25,000 trees, some that dotted its landscape from the pre-independence days, according to Soni.

Already, a depleting green cover is leading to environment pollution that nature lovers say has severe health implications. In its 2008-09 environment report about to be released, the NMC says Nagpur’s air is unsafe for breathing round the year — the suspended particulate matter exceeds national ambient air quality standards.

The banyan tree crusade started with nature lovers knocking on the doors of the NMC three months ago, pleading quick action. This was after they had done what they could do on their own. The group spent from its own pockets, dug around to clear surroundings, some one paid for labour expenses, others volunteered to do anti-termite and anti-fungal treatment.

The Nagpur Municipal Corporation agreed to beautify its surroundings. But the code of conduct came in vogue with the announcement of assembly elections. “Nothing happened,” Soni said, “except that Asim Gupta, the civic chief, had the garbage dump removed.”

With the tree’s degeneration, its aerial shoots—the main vegetative reproductive organs—stopped growing downwards. The conservationists hung sacks of fertile soil to their tips and watered it for days. The tree showed signs of revival, but soon the garbage was back. “Problem is,” said Deshpande, “no one cares.”