As I was cleaning my shelf full of books (which I rarely do) I came across a book titled 'A Parents' Guide to Bringing Up Kids -A Reader's Digest Selection. I got it when I subscribed Reader's Digest 5 years back. A wonderful book having wonderful articles. As I read it I came across this article by Reena Puri which was published in Navhind Times first. It set me thinking. Here goes the article. Hope all those who read would like it too.

It stands before me in the glowing dusk like a sentinel of nature, tall and proud like a tribal woman. I have grown to love it - this beautiful tree in my garden.
Initially, there was not a single leaf to clothe its nakedness, and the inquisitive rays of the setting sun pierced and exposed its every limb. But spring was not far behind. The world burst into colour. The seeds we had sown in the flower-beds erupted into tiny leaves. From next door we heard the cry of  a new-born calf and watched it gambolling unsteadily among the haystacks. And my tree? Millions of pale, green shoots sprouted on every branch.
What a joy it was watching them unfurl! It was like the first uncurling of a baby's fist - the same soft, delicate and vulnerable interior. The leaves were soon as big as my palm.The flowers fell one evening after an aggressive gust of wind. I hadn't realized that there were flowers until I found masses on the ground, all coloured a cool lime green. I walked barefoot on the carpet and my soles melted into the flowers.
Soon the leaves assumed a deeper hue. Before long they began falling and I discovered the hidden fruits behind them. Globes of russet coloured fruit, as big as table-tennis balls and as decorative as miniature pomogranates.
I was curious about them and asked a botanist about their identity. Nux Vomica I was told; strychnine is extracted from the seeds.
Was I a little disappointed that my tree held poison? Maybe, but the balance had to be struck somewhere and there couldn't have been a more beautiful example.