Native blooms

Yes, tulips are not Indian; but then, nor are marigolds

Every spring, over the last few years, Delhi comes ablaze with tulips of every colour. While these appear in many traffic roundabouts and city parks, the most impressive display is along Shanti Path in Chanakyapuri. Here the long boulevard is lined with tulips that are so stunning that there is always a little crowd gathered around photographing them from every angle. 

I joined this crowd a couple of days ago, and was recounting how amazing the display was to a group of friends, and encouraging them to visit while they lasted (tulips have an amazingly short shelf life). While everyone else was open to the idea, one lady wasn’t at all impressed. “Tulips,” she snorted. “Why tulips? They are a foreign flower. This is not Amsterdam. This is Delhi. And we should be planting local flowers like marigolds!”

Marigolds? Well, okay. But did she know that marigolds were not native to India either? They are originally from Mexico and had been imported to India in the 16th century by Portuguese and Spanish traders. 

Impossible, she said. The marigold was an Indian flower. They were an integral part of Hindu pujas and had been used to decorate temples since time immemorial. Yes, I countered, the marigold had become an integral part of our puja rituals over the years – but only since they were introduced to India in the 16th century. 

It was only when I summoned up Google to substantiate my case, did she concede the point – though with very bad grace. The conversation then moved on to other less contentious topics but it left me wondering about how many things we regard as indigenous when they actually came to India from elsewhere a few centuries ago.

As a Punjabi, I grew up loving my rajma-chawal and makki di roti and sarson da saag combines, and regarded them as dishes of an ancient origin. Imagine my surprise when I grew up to find out that rajma was introduced to India (again from Mexico/Central America) in the 17th century. And that it only became a staple dish in the late 19th or early 20th century. The tomato that is integral to its taste was brought to India only in the 16th century; before that all Indians used things like tamarind and yoghurt as souring agents in dishes. Similarly, there was no makki di roti in ancient times. Corn was brought in from south America in the 16th century but it wasn’t until the 19th century that makki di roti became a staple of Punjabi cooking. 

I am sure if I were to point out these inconvenient facts to proud Punjabis they would be up in arms about my dissing their ancient culinary tradition. But the fact is that even up until the end of the 18th century, rajma and makki di roti did not exist in this country. But that’s not to say that these things are not regarded as quintessentially Punjabi now. 

In fact, that is how the world evolves. Things that came in from abroad are absorbed into the local culture so smoothly and seamlessly over time that they become Indian in due course. So, who knows, maybe 100 years down the line, the tulip will regarded as an Indian flower as well – just as the marigold is today! 

Bloom time

We are finally taking the time to smell the roses…

 

The last time I visited Japan was seven years ago. Watching the Sakura (cherry blossoms) bloom had long been on my bucket list. And in 2016 I was lucky enough to arrive in Tokyo on the very day when those amazing white and pink flowers bloomed across the city. I spent the next week doing what the Japanese call ‘Hanami’, which basically means sitting quietly and taking in the beauty of the flowering Sakura. In this I was joined by what seemed like all of Tokyo, Sakura-watching being a national pastime during the fortnight when the flowers are in situ.

 

I remember coming back to India and writing a column bemoaning the fact that while we have plenty of flowering trees in India – amaltas, saptaparani, tesu, palash, to name just a few – which are just as pretty, we didn’t seem to make much of them. We didn’t take time off to sit in parks or simply by the side of the road to admire their beauty.

 

Last week, I was fortunate enough to visit Tokyo again during the Sakura season. And as I travelled from park to park, feasting my eyes on that miraculous burst of colour that is the flowering cherry blossom, I was struck by a sudden realization. I don’t quite know when it happened, or what brought it about, but in the last few years, we in India have begun to celebrate our own flowering trees and spring blooms with a similar enthusiasm that the Japanese show for Sakura.

 

I see it all the time during my walks in the sundry Delhi parks I haunt during the spring. I am surrounded by people, both young and old, who are more interested in taking pictures of the flowering plants – petunias, salvia, pansies, hollyhocks, roses – than in getting their 10,000 steps in. The tulips in Lodi Garden this spring, for instance, were an Instagram staple, with hundreds of posts dedicated to their beauty.

 

And it’s not just spring flowers that are getting eyeballs. Flowering trees are becoming as much of a crowd pleaser. The bright red flowers of the tesu, which are a harbinger of Holi, bring a spot of colour to my social media feed, as does the palash tree, which blooms soon after.

 

During the peak of summer, when the amaltas begins to show off its golden hues, everyone goes a bit mad posting those yellow-streaked trees as they shimmer in the strong sunshine and brighten up every city street. The Pujas are heralded by the flowering of the shiuli tree. But while earlier, it was just the Bengalis among us who would celebrate its arrival, now those delicate white and orange flowers have fans from almost every community.

 

In my house, it is the saptaparani tree outside the balcony that signals the arrival of winter to me. The moment the temperature drops, the tree starts to sprout tiny white flowers which give forth the most heavenly fragrance. But it’s not just me that is taking in that perfume, the rest of the world is just as enthused by it.

 

So, what accounts for our new-found passion for flowering trees and blooms? Is it just another way of brightening up our social media feeds? Or are we finally becoming sensitized to and appreciative of our environment. Or is it a bit of both? 

  

Whatever the reason may be, I am very happy that we are finally stopping to smell the roses.