The Blooming

"Bramhakamal" the flower named after Bramha, the God of creation, (or or Saussurea Obvallata , if you insist on its boring botanical name) blooms for only one night in the year, during the monsoon season here. The bloom lasts just for a few hours. If one observes closely, the buds look like they originate from the leaves of the plant. The central white stamen is believed to represent Lord Krishna, and the reddish brown stalks surrounding the closed bud are supposed to represent the 100 Kauravas of the Mahabharata.

A few scientific spoilsports claim this is NOT the Bramhakamal that has Himalayan roots, but actually a Night blooming Cereus with a terrible botanical name of Epiphyllum oxypetalum. Never mind.


But those that plant it, nurture it, worship it and marvel at its magic, still believe in the connection to Bramha.

The magic of the Bramhakamal , is not just in its blooming, but in its fragrance, and the sense of wonder it invokes in little girls.

As one little girl did, last night , as Sunday June 26, became Monday June 27 !

(Once again, the original happened in my mother tongue, Marathi. And English effort follows for my non-marathi friends)

(photograph by Sameer S Sahasrabuddhe,
the plant from the garden of Mrs C Vijayalakshmi)

काही कमळे,
आतल्या आत गुप्तपणे
योजना ठरवून
आधी खूप हिरवा लवाजमा पाठवून
अचानक एका मध्यरात्री
पडद्याआडून अचानक येणार्या
सौंदर्यवती सारखे अवतरतात ...
आणि
काही कमळे,
रोजच इतर फुलांच्या घोळक्यात
नाचत , सुरात झोकून
कानात गुपित सांगत
हसत खेळत ,
आपल्या जन्मादात्त्यांच्या मांडीवर
डोकं ठेउन
गमती जम्तीन्च्या गप्पा करत ,
लहान सहान गोष्टींनी भाराउन जाउन ,
मुक्त हस्ताने आपला आनद उधळतात ......

Some,
with a sense of
occasion, mystery
and exclusivity,
and amidst
longish tough greens
keeping the secret
themselves,
simply make
a grand appearance
in pristine ,
fragrant glory,
like an exclusive
diva queen,
making grand entry
on stage,
eagerly anticipated
by us ordinary folks.

And some,
enmeshed,
in the
friendship of
other flowers,
in life's wonderful garden,
singing, dancing,
sharing secrets
amidst giggles and smiles;
Snuggling with
their parents,
and
excitedly spouting
nineteen to the dozen,
freely fling around,
their own joy.

It's contagious !