It was planted in the center of the garden.
Everything seemed to revolve around it. The flurry of activities in the day and the soothing breezes of the night. It had a knack to being stern yet kind, social yet solitary, cheery yet comforting, pushy yet supportive.
Since it was everyone's favorite place to be, a small mud platform was raised around it. It found a place in the family photographs. Kids scribbled their first letter under the mango tree. It witnessed many unions and partings. It bore mangoes every summer. (Of course, it was a mango tree ! )
One not-so-fine day, the garden was reduced to half. No longer was the mango tree at the center of life. It was spared but looked morose. The mud platform had long been demolished. It was past its prime. No fruits were borne. No one cared to water it. But it refused death. It knew its task was not over yet.
It had to provide shade to the gardener who lay underneath it.