Just a few years ago it was found that trees not only have a certain way of knowing which we call a brain, they have a heart too. Certainly it does not beat like yours, because they have their own kind of heart. If their surgeons come to look around you, they will find no heart in you, no brain in you, because they will be looking for their type of brain, their type of heart.
Trees feel emotions, sentiments. For example when a gardener comes to water the tree, the tree feels happy. Now, the happiness can be measured on a graph like the cardiogram. The graph becomes harmonious, as if it is a song, rhythmic. If somebody comes with an ax to cut the tree… He is far away but the graph changes. The man has not even said that he is coming to cut the tree, he has only thought about it, but the tree somehow has become aware of his thought.
If he is not going to cut the tree, and has no thought of it, he can pass by the tree with the ax in his hand and the graph will continue the same. But if he has the thought to cut the tree, then the graph immediately changes, zigzags, all the harmony is lost, there is no rhythm. The tree is shaking with fear. And if he cuts the tree, then the graphs of other trees around start going berserk. They are feeling hurt because one of their fellows, friends, a neighbor, is being cut.
So it is not impossible – if they have sentiments, emotions, a certain kind of thinking… My idea is not outlandish: sometimes they can go crazy, because all these things are needed to go crazy. They have them; and man has done so much harm to them that it is time they should go crazy. And he goes on harming them. There must be a limit, and it is not far away. Man has destroyed the whole environment.
After my graduation I went to the Hindu university in Varanasi to study, because that is the biggest university in India. But I stayed there only twenty-four hours. The man I was staying with was Doctor Rajbali Pandey; he was the head of the department of history. He tried to persuade me not to leave: “Why? – you will not find a better place, at least not in India. It has the best scholars, the best professors, all the best facilities possible. You should think about it.”
I said, “I am not going because of this university, I am going because of you.”
He said, “What! What have I done to you?” He had stayed with me once, just accidentally. I was traveling in the same compartment to Jabalpur in which he was traveling. He missed the train that he had to catch from Jabalpur to Gondia – it was on a different line. Our train was late so he was very much worried, “Now, what am I to do?” Only after twenty-four hours – Gondia is a small place – would a very small train, a toy train go to Gondia, and the same train would come back. It takes twelve hours to go and twelve hours to come back, and it is not that far, just the train is such…