Our Shrine – The biggest Banyan of Pollachi

During my childhood, trees were an integral part of my daily life. Our home was at the edge of the village, where the village ended and the coconut farms started. At school, we often had lunch beneath the shade of Thongu Moonji (Rain Tree). After school, my friends and I would gather to play under the Banyan and Neem trees near our house. One of our favourite activities was swinging, swinging by Banyan’s ariel roots.

Though I have always felt a connection to the trees around me, I never gave them much attention to them until later. On my child’s birthday, my husband and I began a tradition of planting trees. This allowed me to reconnect with trees again. As part of this process, I read and researched each tree species before planting.

I developed a particular interest in Banyan trees. The more I read about them, the more fascinated I became. Their unique pollination process captivated me. Their remarkable strangling growth habit further intrigued me. I read articles about some of the oldest and largest Banyans on earth and learnt that they are here in India. I even dreamed of visiting Dodda Alada Mara, the Big Banyan Tree, on my next journey to Bengaluru.

But I never imagined that I would witness such a majesticness in my hometown, Pollachi. During one of our aimless evening drives, I came across a tree that immediately captured my heart. Near a Village called Jameen Puravipalayam, surrounded by hectares and hectares of coconut trees, stood a single Banyan tree. Its canopy spreads over half an acre and a small temple was dedicated to the Saptha Kannikas, beneath it. According to the temple’s priest, the tree was more than 150 years old, as old as the temple itself.

Hundreds of its aerial roots spread across the clearing. It reminded me of the 1000-pillar mandapam in Madurai Meenakshi Amman temple. The fallen leaves covered the floor like a carpet. Walking between the roots on a rustling leaf bed was a surreal experience. Beside the Banyan, a young Pungam (Indian Beech) tree stood as a quiet companion to the ageing yet resolute giant. One of the roots which I suspect to be the main trunk was decaying.

From that day on, whenever the hustle and bustle of daily life felt too much, we sought refuge beneath the tree. During the fruiting season, many birds and squirrels occupied the tree. On most days, they would be the only visitors.

With the serene atmosphere, the chirping birds, the squeaking squirrels and the occasional wandering dogs, the Banyan tree became our go-to place. A place of stillness and meditation, far from the house and the rush of daily life.

Photos by Arulsaranya Masilamani.

About the author: Arulsaranya Masilamani, a software engineer by profession and a farmer by heart, lives in a quiet little village in Pollachi. Passionate about trees and birds, she can often be found wandering through the villages on her scooter and staring at a tree.