Celebrating the beauty of blooms, my way
As a young girl, I used to accompany my father to his college. While dad would be busy taking classes, I’d hang around the campus playing among the Kaner trees that left me mesmerised. My dad forbade me from plucking flowers so I would pick up the freshly fallen ones. The perky yellow blooms cheered me up and I would take the flowers for my mother to sew into a garland that I’d wear and prance around the house in all my flowery glory. Kaner fruits are supple and interesting faces can be carved on them. I’d spend hours giving them profiles of happy faces, sad faces and big eyes. The flowering Kaners in my dad’s college went on to become my playmates.
We would visit our native village during the holidays. The village bus stand was located near a canal owing to which there were dense shrubs and vegetation, giving the area a rich green cover. There were small multi-coloured flowers in bunches that caught my attention. I would discreetly pluck them without getting caught and stash them in a corner of my bag. But by the time we reached home, they would be sullen, disappointing me. I wanted them as fresh as I when I had plucked them. They would soon lose the vivaciousness that attracted me to them in the first place. Later, I found their name was Lantana Camara.
I love the bright Amaltas flowers at Punjab Agricultural University in Ludhiana. I don’t try to pluck them lest they wither. The humble trees are gracious enough to lower their gregarious bunches of golden blossoms for a magnificent view. The road from the hostel to the college in summer would be strewn with the yellow blossoms and girls would tread on them oblivious to the impermanence of those gleeful moments. Even today, the sight of the blooming Amaltas tree fills me with joy and abandonment and I end up reminiscing the good old university days.
My daughter loves lavender flowers because the story/ movie character Rapunzel wears them in her perpetually long hair. She searches for lavender on Google and then gazes at the images of the Jacaranda flowers. She dreams of having hair as long as Rapunzel to bead in the lavender flowers in a similar fashion. I reason with her that hair as long as Rapunzel’s doesn’t seem a viable option. Nevertheless, she dreams and reminds me, “’Yes mamma, dreams often come true. Always remember that.”
No matter in how many shapes and sizes flowers come, whether they’re growing solitary or in bunches, whenever I see them blooming and spreading the cheer, I smile for there is nothing more beautiful than the sight of a flower in bloom. In the words of poet John Keats, “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.”
I capture the images in my mind, thriving on their ability to help me recuperate from the monotony of everyday chores. I smile and move on doing the same things with a rejuvenated zeal.
THE HUMBLE AMALTAS TREES ARE GRACIOUS ENOUGH TO LOWER THEIR GREGARIOUS BUNCHES OF GOLDEN BLOSSOMS FOR A MAGNIFICENT VIEW