I recently met three magnificent peepal trees who are to be married. The peepal/peepul is also called ashvattha, Bodhi tree, sacred fig or ficus religiosa. They were not your hormone-fuelled adolescents, checking out Tinder for Trees, giggling as they compared the bust and waist measurements of a girl tree’s trunk, or gossiping about whether she was wheat-complexioned or “haal-thy,” Indian mummyism for fat offspring. They simply threw their open arms wide towards the gloriously blue, sunny skies. It struck me as a great attitude for a successful marriage or bride-hunting spree. Don’t be bogged down by detail: look at the big picture, be open and accepting of what life brings, and celebrate life’s many joys.

The old lady who introduced me to the trees and updated me on their current relationship status, said she was “looking out for suitable bel trees for them.” In other words, three bel brides for the three peepals. Triple shaadi and all. (Bel/bael is also called Bengal quince or Aegle marmelos). The idea of trees marrying is so typically Indian, magnificent and endearing, it seemed too petty to bother with mundane practicalities like how would the trees live together. I assume a long-distance relationship is a given, no saas-bahu crap, so there. The lady informed me, by way of recommendation from the boy’s side, that all three peepals had their munjis done in grand style many years ago. The munji or upanayan ceremony, usually performed for adolescent Hindu Brahmin boys, includes wearing of the janve/janeu or sacred white thread across the torso, in a sacred ritual. The peepals, which had a large platform around them, had janves tied around their trunks. Swamijis had come from far and wide to do an enormous puja; there was a havan kund or homa—ritual with fire and offerings, and the peepals had their munjis done.