My Father’s Legacy and the Date Palm Tree

The date palm tree is an integral part of Arabian heritage. Over 44 million date palm trees grow in the UAE alone. I, too, have a special connection to this unique tree.

It was probably 1986. I sat through my first art class, which I vividly remember. Our art teacher, Mr. Hussain, was a polished young man who effortlessly drew a landscape with white chalk on the classroom blackboard. It had a few elements: a river, mountains, a hut and a single date palm tree. That scenery and the solitary date palm tree with its fascinating leaves stayed with me for the rest of my life. Coincidentally, we had a date palm tree in my maternal grandfather’s garden that somebody brought from Iraq for him.

Years later, I shifted to Dubai. Unlike the house in Lucknow, we were lucky to have a big garden area and the chance to plant more trees than just plants in pots. My father, Basir Abidi Amrohvi, loved greenery, and this aspect of the house appealed to him the most. For some reason, he told me to plant a date palm tree and that he would pay me for it.

My parents last visited us in Dubai in the summer of 2016. The following year, we planted the tree in our garden. I initially thought the tree might not survive, as the leaves were turning grey, but our prayers did the trick. It didn’t bear fruits that year, though Papa eagerly awaited the good news. It did so in 2018. The harvest has only improved since that summer. Luckily, Lucknow is a four-hour flight away, so I could carry more than a kilogram of our homegrown dates for my parents. Papa was thrilled to have a bite. Being a diabetic, he couldn’t eat much. By this time, his eyesight was also failing.

Back in Lucknow, papa had a few accidents at home, and his health deteriorated. Soon, the pandemic happened, and many things changed in the world. My world was to change, too. Isolated at home and unable to meet his kids, papa started showing signs of dementia.

I visited Papa during the pandemic as the travel restrictions slightly eased. He asked me again about the date palm’s price and said he wanted to pay it as promised. I told him he had already done so, knowing he may not remember. My simple old man, tricked by me, just said, “Oh! I paid for it.” He tried to remember something that never happened.

Over the next few years, I kept bringing the dates to my home in Lucknow.

Papa left us in 2022 after being bedridden for seven months with deteriorating health.

His tree is still standing tall and strong in our garden. Every season, it bears an increasing quantity of delicious dates. Sadly, Papa didn’t get to see or touch it in his lifetime. But every time I stand near it, I can feel his presence.

The date palm of Hussain sir’s painting seems to have walked silently into my life and has stayed ever since. I hope it outlives me. It’s my father’s gift to the UAE.