A Banyan Tree Blooms Above Times Square

Eeman Masood brings stillness to NYC at 11:57pm

Michael Hull courtesy of Time Square Arts

Michael Hull courtesy of Time Square Arts

Michael Hull courtesy of Time Square Arts

Michael Hull courtesy of Time Square Arts

Michael Hull courtesy of Time Square Arts

At 11:57pm in Times Square, a place defined by spectacle, neon, and relentless motion, a banyan tree begins to glow.

It doesn’t shout. It doesn’t compete.

It asks you to pause.

Michael Hull courtesy of Time Square Arts

For artist Eeman Masood, inserting stillness into one of the loudest spaces in the world is intentional. “To me, inserting stillness into a space defined by noise and spectacle is about creating a pause, a moment to reconnect with oneself,” she says. “Times Square overwhelms the senses; my work asks viewers to breathe, observe, and feel. It’s an invitation to slow down, even briefly, and remember that quiet awareness can exist amidst chaos.”

The hand-painted animation explores resilience and interconnectedness through the figure of the banyan tree, a symbol deeply rooted in South Asian cultural and spiritual traditions. Inspired by a weathered banyan she encountered while returning to Lahore, the piece reflects on memory, displacement, and the quiet generosity of nature. Despite visible decay, the tree continued to offer shade.

That image stayed with her.

“As a South Asian artist, my work is inherently tied to my cultural heritage,” Masood explains. “The banyan tree serves as a symbol not only of my own memories and upbringing but also of the broader cultural and spiritual traditions of South Asia. It represents the interconnectedness of life, nature, and community — ideas that have shaped my personal and artistic identity.”

The animation was created over nine months. Every single frame was painted by hand.

“The slow, repetitive act of hand-painting every frame taught me patience, resilience, and trust in the process,” she says. “It became a meditative rhythm, where each brushstroke reinforced faith in the work itself.”

With a background in traditional miniature painting, Masood wanted to translate that intimacy into animation. “I also wanted to bring the details of painting, and how the breath is connected to each stroke, into my animation.” The result is something rare in digital public art: it feels alive because it was built slowly, by hand.

The title of the work comes from a quote by Rumi, whose philosophy of oneness with nature deeply influences her practice. She also draws inspiration from Rabindranath Tagore.

“I’m influenced by spiritual thinkers like Rumi and Rabindranath Tagore, whose poetry often speaks of the interconnectedness of all life,” she says. “Their reflections on oneness and the cycles of nature resonate deeply with my belief in the spiritual life of trees and the need for us to reconnect with our environment in meaningful ways.”

This is not just about nostalgia. It’s about responsibility.

“The writings of Rumi and Tagore emphasize unity, interconnection, and reverence for all life. Their philosophies shape how I think about ecology, we are not separate from the natural world but part of it.”

In a city where nature can feel distant, Masood’s banyan becomes both reminder and warning. The tree’s generosity mirrors the abundance of the natural world and the ease with which we take it for granted. Her work quietly urges protection, care, and awareness.

When someone unexpectedly looks up at midnight and sees her banyan tree glowing above Times Square, she hopes something lingers.

“I hope that fleeting encounter leaves viewers with a sense of wonder and calm — a momentary pause in a relentless city,” she says. “Even for a few seconds, I want them to remember that stillness, beauty, and connection to nature can exist anywhere.”

There is a peacock that moves through the animation, a recurring motif in her work, symbolizing transformation and the bridge between the earthly and the divine. Growth. Renewal. Return.

Masood often reflects on a passage from Tagore’s The Gardener, about a tree that withstands seasons of loss yet gathers strength beneath the surface, waiting to bloom again.

That is what her banyan offers New York: not spectacle, but steadiness. Not noise, but breath.

At 11:57pm, in the brightest crossroads of the world, a tree stands still.

And if you look up, you might just stand still too.