[1]Trees are the lungs of the earth. They absorb carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and release oxygen, which is essential for all living beings. Without trees, life on this planet would be impossible. A single mature tree can absorb as much as 48 pounds of carbon dioxide per year, and in exchange release enough oxygen to support two human beings.

[2]Forests cover approximately 31 percent of the total land area of the earth. They are home to more than 80 percent of the world's terrestrial biodiversity. Yet, deforestation continues at an alarming rate. Every year, approximately 15 billion trees are cut down globally. This relentless destruction not only threatens wildlife habitats but also accelerates climate change.

[3]Trees also play a vital role in the water cycle. Their roots absorb water from the soil and release it as vapour through a process called transpiration. This moisture rises into the atmosphere and eventually falls as rain. The absence of trees disrupts this cycle, leading to droughts, soil erosion, and desertification in many regions.

[4]Beyond their ecological value, trees hold deep cultural and spiritual significance for many communities around the world. In India, the Peepal and Banyan trees have been worshipped for centuries. Sacred groves — known as 'dev vans' — have traditionally been protected by village communities, ensuring the preservation of biodiversity long before modern conservation movements came into existence.

[5]The solution lies in a collective responsibility. Governments must enforce stronger anti-deforestation laws. Industries must adopt sustainable practices. But above all, every individual must recognise that planting and protecting trees is not merely an environmental duty — it is an act of compassion toward future generations.

[Additional Poem for Questions]
In the Bazaars of Hyderabad (Extract) — Sarojini Naidu

What do you sell, O ye merchants?
Richly your wares are displayed.
Turbans of crimson and silver,
Tunics of purple brocade,
Mirrors with panels of amber,
Daggers with handles of jade.

What do you weigh, O ye vendors?
Saffron and lentil and rice.
What do you grind, O ye maidens?
Sandalwood, henna, and spice.
What do you call, O ye pedlars?
Chessmen and ivory dice.

"Iona Potapov, the sledge-driver, is all white like a ghost. He sits on the box without stirring, bent as double as the living body can be bent. If a regular snowdrift fell on him it seems as though even then he would not think it necessary to shake it off.... His little mare is white and motionless too. Her stillness, the angularity of her lines, and the stick-like straightness of her legs make her look like a halfpenny gingerbread horse. She is probably lost in thought. Anyone who has been torn from the plough, from the familiar grey landscapes, and cast into this slough, full of monstrous lights, of unceasing uproar and hurrying people, is bound to think."

— from "The Lament" by Anton Chekhov