Real guardians of Shimla

It was the summer of 2007. I was pursuing my post-graduation in English at Himachal Pradesh University (HPU), Shimla. The campus, nestling in the embrace of the mountains, felt like a scene from Wordsworth’s poetry — every pine tree a verse, every breeze a metaphor.

One warm afternoon, while preparing for my paper ‘the Romantic Age in English literature’ near the library, I noticed an old gardener named Kishan Lal planting a deodar sapling. Curious, I asked, “Why plant more trees when there are already so many?”

He smiled and replied gently, “Beta, these trees are the real guardians of Shimla. They hold the soil together, invite the rains, and shelter the birds. Shimla’s beauty isn’t just its Mall Road or colonial buildings—it’s these trees that sing with the wind.”

Years passed. I returned to HPU several times. Some of those saplings had grown into tall trees. But many green patches had disappeared, replaced by concrete. The crisp mountain air had changed — now it carried a faint dryness, as if mourning a quiet loss.

As we celebrated the World Environment Day recently, Kishan Lal’s words echoed in my mind. I realised that protecting the environment isn’t just about laws or campaigns. It’s about preserving memory, identity and the soul of our hills.

Let us honour our roots—not just literary ones, but the literal roots beneath our feet. Let’s safeguard every pine, every cedar that makes Shimla breathe, sing and dream.

Because once the trees are gone, the poetry of this place — the hush of the woods, the whisper of the wind, the scent of resin—will vanish too. Let’s all plant a tree or save one — for Shimla, for ourselves, for tomorrow.

Sikandar Bansal, Shimla