On Monday, Arunachalam, who was working for us on the Upper field, returned from lunch and (quite casually) asked me, "Did you let someone cut down your Porcha-maram?" Judging by his casualness, I assumed that it was some small tree. And in the heat, I had no interest in going and looking at the site of a cut-down tree. So, I just said, "Of course, not. Some bloody thief again", and we carried on with our respective work.

Later that evening, when Sonati and I were sitting on the Hippo rock, Varun joined us and immediately said, "Oh, someone has cut down a big tree", and pointed to a gash in the landscape.

How come we didn't hear the sound of the hacking? Sonati and I (and the boys to some extent) are so "tuned-in" to that sound that we start up from sleep if it happens.

Next day, we took a look at the place: It was a clean cut with a saw! That is why the operation was silent.

[caption id="attachment_722" align="aligncenter" width="150"] A silent hack[/caption]

And what's more, the felled tree was still lying in the undergrowth, having damaged a couple of others in its fall. It is a tricky spot; so has the thief let it lie, intending to come back later, with help?

[caption id="attachment_723" align="aligncenter" width="450"] The felled tree[/caption]

The Porcha-maram is a tree used to make ploughs, and as with most other native trees, it can now be found only on our land. I suppose we should feel thankful that it is someone whom wants a plough who has chopped down the tree. Who knows the state of things to come? We have heard horror stories of Timber Mafias operating near Auroville, with chain-saws and trucks. If that comes to pass here, we may hark back to the idyllic time when thieves operated only on a Need-to basis and not for the market.

[caption id="attachment_724" align="aligncenter" width="450"] The "gash in the landscape"[/caption]

After all, till yesterday, it was the sound of hacking that was an alarm call for us. Today, without any hacking sounds, we are on edge: a continuous High-alert.