The ‘Palash ki Talaash’ stroll in Hyderabad honours the glories of nature

A line from Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s forthcoming film Heeramandi is “Umbva phutay, tesu phulay.” Composed by Amir Khusro, it marks the arrival of spring and the blooming of tesu, or the palash flower. Native to India, palash is a flower with profound cultural significance found in the tales, songs, and iconography of Indian culture. Hyderabad hosts a stroll called Palash ki Talaash each year in the weeks leading up to Holi to see the splendor of these marvels in their natural settings.

 

The combination of the blooms’ vibrant orange, scarlet, and vermilion hues against the parched and barren Deccan terrain is breathtaking. It is not surprising that authors have extolled their beauty in works ranging from Kalidasa to Tagore. Seeing the migrating Rosy Starlings, which spend the winter on the Indian subcontinent before heading back to Central and West Asia, was a highlight of the stroll.

These little birds travel great distances in search of food and shade because the palash trees provide an abundance of nectar. It’s interesting to note that they begin their voyage about when the palash in the Deccan opens for bloom, and then travel across central and northern India along the paths taken by the blossoming flowers before leaving the nation for the season. The walk, which was initiated by Sadhana Ramachander and Kobita Dass Kolli, two educators at Vidyaranya School of Hyderabad who teach horticulture and ecological awareness, takes lovers, families, kids, and even dogs to the city’s periphery, where the flower grows abundantly.

For Ramachander, who was raised in Telangana’s Warangal city, this is kind of a homecoming.

The sculpted aspect of the palash trees, together with their velvety orange-black blooms that resemble claws, is what made me appreciate their artistic value as a child. There is also a lot of bug and bird activity there. It’s a heady sight to see it in full bloom against the dry Telangana countryside, she adds. It is referred to as the modugu flower in Telangana and is ingrained in people’s minds. The flowers are not harvested during Shivratri. In the days leading up to the celebration, a saree is instead set under the trees, and the only flowers that are utilized for worship are those that are dropped by the wind or the birds.

Palash has many applications: the bark is used in several Ayurvedic and Unani treatments, the leaves are used to make plates, and the blossoms are used to create color. Buddhist monks utilize the blossoms to manufacture the red dye that they use to color their robes. The leaf’s trifoliate shape is said to symbolize Lord Siva on the right, Lord Brahma on the left, and Lord Vishnu in the center. The palash is a sign of life, according to Kolli.

Its distinctive keel petal necessitates that birds work to access the concealed nectar, which helps with pollination, the speaker continues. Since they can withstand the hard circumstances, they are essentially the first blooms of “Vasantha,” producing copious quantities of nectar and serving as a major supporter of biodiversity throughout the dry season. They are also crucial to the semi-arid ecology.

A prickly ash in full bloom represents the cycle of life. They are inextricably linked to the land’s customs; they are ageless, magnificent, quiet, and evocative of universal feelings that inspire everyone, from average bystanders to famous poets.

These kinds of strolls allow city people to stop and think, to relax and rejuvenate, to see the unseen and acknowledge the quiet marvels all around us. From a one-year-old infant to elderly folks with silver hair, kids to Leo the Labrador, strolling was fundamentally an act of love and camaraderie.

Sensations that are closely linked to nature, like as the aroma of wildflowers, the sound of birds singing, and the rustling of leaves in the air, help us to be present and mindful of the here and now.

When yoga teacher Harshita Soni remarks, “I had read about the palash in a recipe book but had never seen it,” she puts things into perspective. I used to mistake the popular African Tulip tree in the city for a palash. I believe that Palash would win the Oscar for flowers.