Some years ago, when I was still a neophyte in the world of trees and specifically the flowering trees of Bangalore, I stumbled upon an article in the local newspaper titled “Bloom time in Garden City”. I learnt two things from the article and one of them made me look at the tree-lined avenues of Bangalore with a whole new perspective.
The first thing I learned was that the garden city owed its eponym and the tree-lined avenues to a German botanist Gustav Hermann Krumbiegel, who along with designing the famous Lal Bagh was also responsible for the beautiful tree-lined avenues in the city. At this stage, you may wonder what is so special about planting a few trees along the city roads. And this is where the magic happens, because my dear reader if you ever had the opportunity to stay and observe the trees of Bangalore, you will notice that there is nary a time when you can’t spot a tree that is flowering and adorning the Bangalore skies.
Krumbiegel was a magician in his own right as he has been able to conjure up this magic trick, with Nature as his most comely assistant, year on year, for more than 80 years. This magic trick even has a name –“serial blossoming”, which for me always brings forth an image of a tree angel going around with a magic wand and bringing the blossoms to life with a kiss of life – the antithesis to “serial killing”. I guess angels come in all forms and for me, Krumbiegel is angel supremo when it comes to trees!
And, he did this by bringing in tree species from all the corners of the globe and then acclimatizing, and nurturing them so that they became part of the city’s natural legacy. So, much before the city earned its cosmopolitan tag, we already had a flourishing community of expatriates of the rooted variety. They came from the isle of Madagascar, the savannahs of South America, and the tropical climes of Malay, and they made the terra-firma of Bangalore their new home and the skies their new canvas. Every year they flower with the famous clockwork precision and effortless grace, while we, in the audience, marvel at every blooming-much as children we used to marvel at each of the magician’s tricks. And, every time they bloom I can’t help but think about their ancestors flowering around the same time, thousands of miles away, that happily surrendered their seeds so that we could enjoy their beauty. These blooming trees have schooled us, humans, in lessons of beauty, harmony, and coexistence – united above and below.
Ever since I read that article, I started paying more attention to the opening acts and the grand finales of my new-found friends. It’s been a labor of love spanning a couple of years and I still haven’t been able to capture all of them at their peak. But, as with the recent celebration of what we love, I wanted to pay homage to some of my favourites, and to the magician who made it happen. I read somewhere that the epitaph on his gravestone (his final resting place is in Bangalore under an African Tulip tree) reads:
“Whatever he touched, he adorned”
I couldn’t think of anything apter, and forgive me for philosophizing but I can’t help but wonder wouldn’t it be lovely if we all lived our lives like that? Adorning everything that came within our being by our presence and attention. Something to aspire to!
So, here is the part I (from Jan to May) of my research and documentation of Bangalore’s “serial blossoming”.
January is when spring comes to Bangalore – earlier than the northern cities. And with spring comes the first sighting of “Pink Ipes” or “Pink Trumpet Trees”. I prefer to call them the “candyfloss tree”. Every year, much like the sakura season in Japan, the nature-loving citizens of Bangalore head towards Cubbon Park when these trees bloom and create their own version of hanami. I am not entirely sure where these came from- the expert’s opinion is somewhere between Mexico and Argentina. Hola Senorita!
February is the time when gold grows on trees as Tabebuia Aurea or the Tree of Gold heralds the onset of summer. The golden blossoms are a sight to behold and the blooming trees are resplendent as if the sun itself has decided to descend from the heavens. Rumour has it that these trees were brought in from the South Americas. I personally like to believe the one which says that these trees came from Argentina. It seems rather appropriate to me, Argentina of the golden trees and of the golden boots on Messi’s feet :).
March-April is also the time for the copper pods or the yellow Gulmohar (also called “Haldi Gulmohar” in Hindi). Unlike their red brethren, they bloom earlier and with their faces upwards facing the skies as if taking inspiration from the sun. And why the moniker “copper pod” you ask? That’s because of the copper-colored seeds that are so distinctive about these flowers. The ground under these trees is often strewn with a carpet of yellow and is a sight to behold. These trees are native to Ceylon, Malay, and North Australia and probably came to the Indian shores from one of these countries. In the eastern parts of India, the red and yellow Gulmohar are named after Hindu god Krishna and his beloved Radha. The flamboyant red Gulmohar is called Krishnachura and the yellow counterparts are called Radhachura. And, they are often planted together- symbolizing their love and companionship.
We get some relief from the summer heat in Bangalore with a sudden burst of April showers and the blue/purple blooms of Jacarandas. While the Gulmohars and the Tabebuias demand the viewer’s attention by their flamboyance and the intense profusion of colours, Jacarandas embody subtle beauty and elegance. If you are not mindful you may just miss the lilac against the backdrop of green leaves and the blue skies. I have always had a tough time doing justice to these trees in Bangalore with my paltry camera phone. It’s amazing to think that the jacarandas originated in the sub-tropical climes of Brazil and made the long journey to the mountainous terrain of Bhutan. Do they still sway to the tunes of samba in their dreams while their days are filled with the peaceful om mane padme hums?
I forgot to mention earlier, that Gulmohar is also known as the royal poinciana. And if there is royalty, can the Queen be far behind? The Queen’s flower, the Queen’s crepe myrtle, or the Pride of India are just some of the names that this tree goes by. This one is actually the native of the Indian subcontinent and was exported to the western shores from here. And true to its name, in April-May, the tree bears feathery light popsicles in eye-soothing pastel colours of pinks, lilacs, and mauves. While I was growing in the Himalayas, I had only seen the smaller version of these trees (in pink below), simply called the crepe myrtle, and they were one of my favorites.
And with that, we come to the Gulmohar tree – the majestic, the magnificent and true to its name flamboyant. It’s no surprise that the Gulmohar trees traveled from the big-red island or the rainbow island of Madagascar. The first time I saw these trees blooming in their full glory in one of Bangalore’s tree-lined avenues, it was love at first sight. There is something about the burst of red against the backdrop of feathery light green leaves and the blue skies that makes my heart skip a beat every time I see these. But, for a long time, the love affair was very one-sided as I admired the trees from far and didn’t really find an opportunity to come up close, and personal. So, you can imagine my surprise when few years back, on my morning walk I spotted the familiar red in the community that I live in. The reason for my surprise was that I had been living there for many years and hadn’t noticed them before. To this day I don’t know if they just bloomed for the first time that year or I had been blind to these glorious blooms until then. Since that day, every summer I wait eagerly for the first sight of the red blooms and have spent many a morning walking on the red carpet specially laid out for me (or so I like to imagine) while the air around is heavy with a heady mix of sweet perfume.
And, I say a silent prayer to the magician who brought so much color and love to Bangalore’s avenues and skies.
