On one rainy day, I remember I had taken cover under the natural umbrella one of them formed. It served me well. I managed to come out, not half as soaked as I would have otherwise been. The rains in Mumbai are ruthless on its inhabitants and the trees are the only saviours. I was indebted.
The trinity used to stand there, majestically, at the turn down the road. I had seen them in their full glory with their brown barks and thick blanket of leaves. Many creatures lived in them - crows and sparrows, pigeons and squirrels, and many more insects and creepie-crawlies. It was a micro-habitat in itself.
Today, it felt different. The shade the trees provided was gone. The chirping of the birds was absent. In fact there were no birds. As I walked back home, I had hoped to find them watching over the road that leads to the hospital. But all I saw were three stubs, as if they had been prosecuted and sentenced to death - beheading was the chosen method.
The walk didn't feel the same. What a shame! What an end to three glorious lives!