As you move on, you see at a distance a banyan tree so big that it can give shelter to hordes of men and women at a time. The sight of the tree fills your heart with pious delight, the kind of feeling when you are about to find yourself at the feet of a great human being, a saint. You reach there and stay for a while under the tree, feeling the warmth of shadow. You feel like taking a nap.
As you brood on, words of elders come to your remembrance. They used to say that the existence of a banyan tree in the outskirts of a village is as good as the existence of a saintly man in the village itself. Now you come to understand the meaning of the words as you take rest under the tree. Except for the chirping of the birds hiding within the branches of the great banyan tree, the surroundings are so silent that you wonder why the fields are so empty.
The absence of working men and women in there is so conspicuous. You cannot imagine any valid reason until you reach and find it out for yourself. The village is still a considerable distance away from there and you remember suddenly that you have to walk the distance all alone.
You also remember at once that you have no one to rely upon there in the village and you are totally a new comer into the village. You find that it is approaching sunset and you have to rush and reach the village first.
And you start to walk again.