Winter pink.

[Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi]

We, the pitiable Delhiwallas. The extraordinarily extreme pollution of present days might spur a citizen to rue their kismet in being a citizen of this city. Or, the same citizen can follow the following directive. Put on the anti-pollution face mask, head to Mandi House theater district, and station yourself outside the Kamani Auditorium, on Copernicus Marg. Now, relax and enjoy the show.

The polluted afternoon here is staging the silent musical of a floss-silk in bloom. The tree appears to be within the compound of Kamani, but it actually stands in the adjacent Shriram Bhartiya Kala Kendra. Whatever, the floss-silk’s abundant pink flowers are clustered closely together, resembling a giant chrysanthemum of sparks that has burst out from a Diwali firecracker (see photo). The sight is soothing.

This is the thing about Delhi. When the city gets exceptionally difficult for the people, it gives something to console the senses. During the extreme heatwave of summer, Delhi roads sparkle with the golden-yellow bloom of Amaltas trees. During the extreme pollution of winter, parts of the city produce the effervescence of floss-silk trees. So let us be grateful to those planners who planted this South American native in great numbers in our city during the 1950s, especially in Delhi’s many roundabouts and avenues. Today, the tree is locally known as kurayjia. Lodhi Garden is particularly rich in floss-silk—check the three trees standing across the walking track from Sheesh Gumbad monument. Like the summertime Amaltas flowers, these wintertime flowers too fall continually from their branches, discreetly dropping down on the ground. At night, they tend to glow like fireflies. A few of Lodhi Garden’s floss-silk trees stand beside a remote stretch of the park’s expansive pond. The flowers fall on the water, and languidly float atop the reflection of the polluted sky.

Lodhi Garden shares a bit of its boundary with the India International Center, and no celebration of the floss-silk is considered complete without a mention of IIC’s majestic floss-silk. (The plaque there describes the tree by its other name of Mexican Silk Cotton). Sadly, the bloom this season is rather lacklustre. But fret not!

One floss-silk currently in luscious bloom is to be seen near the India Gate circle, on the road divider in front of Bikaner House. This afternoon, it is wondrous to pick up a fallen flower from underneath the tree, and concentrate on its colour. The shade is sort of purplish-pink, and is very dark. Just how has smoggy Delhi allowed this pink to assert itself so authoritatively?