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My eyes were now almost shut, but i could see the tree above me; it was huge. The green spread covered the whole sky above it and also what happend beneath. I couldn't see the stars. The breeze was shaking the branches –its many branches. You do remember that tree, don't you, Mum?

If trees could talk, they'd have so much to tell: the story of two broken hearts, that stolen first, kiss those lasts words of a mother to her son, endless cups of tea and never –endings chatter, of nostalgia, an act of bruitality and a tale of passions.

In this collection of short stories. The Trees Told Me So, Purva Grover draws a beautiful and poigent picture of love, life and loss, with an honest voice. And the common thread running through the stories is that nature (read: a tree) stands witness like an old soul –full of wisdom and compassion. A silent observer, a keeper of secrets, yet the tree is always an integral part of the character's very being.