A GULMOHAR BRINGS CHEER

A GULMOHAR BRINGS CHEER

Early this morning, as I came out of my house for a breath of the fresh, crisp summer morning air after a particularly strenuous yoga session involving quite a bit of breathing in and, hold your breath, breathing out, I saw this pretty red blossom fallen on the road outside my house. It was the typical Gulmohar or Flame of the Forest, with four spoon-like petals but of a beautiful darker shade of red instead the usual bright orange-red, one upright white petal with streaky yellow and red spots, and the other paraphernalia of sepals, stamens and all.

Bengaluru has many flowering trees and looks very colourful at this time of the year, presenting a pretty picture early in the morning, the roads carpeted with colourful red, orange, yellow and pink blossoms, before the traffic starts to build up and they are crushed under the wheels or blown to the sides and the BBMP appointed karmacharis appear on the scene to sweep them up.

There are no Gulmohar trees on my street so my guess is that some morning walker must have picked it up somewhere else while on her or his rounds and carried it along for some time before dropping it in front of my house. I wondered what made the walker do this.

I imagined the walker, who shall remain nameless, for I have no clue yet as to who he or she is, in shorts and tees, masked up and sneakered, out in the crisp morning air, walking the walk, maintaining a steady one-two-one-two, eyes focussed on the ground in front of the marching feet, almost in a trance, intent on burning off the calories imbibed or devoured last night. He (or she, as the case may be though, for the sake of making it easier for me to report, I shall for the time being assume it is a he) is sweating profusely as he completes two laps of his regular route covering the main and cross roads circuiting his house.

As the walker passes under the flowering Gulmohar on the third lap of his weekend walk, the majestic tree, pleased with his dedication, blesses him by bending its boughs slightly and dropping a blossom on his head. The 'ploink' of the stalk hitting his scalp causes the walker to break step and come out of his trance. 

The walker looks at the beautiful flower fallen at his feet. Wow! As he gazes up at the orange-red and green canopy above his head in wonderment, he is surprised he has not noticed this tree before on his walks. He must remember to come back and take a few pictures to post on his Facebook and WhatsApp groups. No point interrupting his walk now. And, before doing that, he must find out what it is called, google it and read up a bit on it. Nature can be so beautiful, he thinks. He picks up the flower and looks at it this way and that as he holds it in one hand and continues his walk.

But his walk is not the same now. The flower has caused him to slow the swing of his arms. The breezy, swinging follow through is missing and the rhythm of his walk has been upset. The step monitor, or whatever it is these electronic gizmos are called, strapped to his wrist, beeps a warning. The walker looks at it in alarm. Gosh! He has walked ten steps less in the last three minutes, so he has burned nearly half a calorie less. Drat! He should be more careful. 

He takes a last wistful look at the flower before dropping it in front of my house as he continues on his walk.

And that is how I think that Gulmohar landed in front of my house. I must take a walk around to see if I can spot that tree.

~ © Shiva Kumar

    (or, should I say, Shiva Ku-Mohar?)

    Saturday, 10 April 2021