Spice of Life| An ode to a flower that leaves indelible imprint
In the few hours it has, the flower is in full splendour and captivates us. It does not matter how long the innings, a cameo innings is good enough, but let it be the best possible one
A few years ago, we got the graft of a Brahma Kamalam plant and potted it. Also called the Queen of the Night, it’s a variety of lotus that blooms only at night and wilts before dawn. Over the years, the plant has grown well in the balcony. The peculiarity of this flowering plant is that it blooms exactly once a year late at night and by daybreak, it’s withered. It glows like a firefly, that one sparkle and no more.
While in bloom, its beauty is matchless. Milky-white, with petals arranged in concentric circles and with a crown-like centre filament, even a single flower stands out in the dark of the night, against its deep-green spiky leaves. The air is redolent with a subtle fragrance, pleasant but never overpowering. This year, we were lucky to get six flowers abloom in a single night.
There is more to the flower than meets the eye. It has left an indelible imprint teaching us valuable lessons for life.
The flower has no expectations. It does not care for a passing look of approval. It blooms that one night because it must. The petals unfold quietly. Ironically, we pose for a photo with the flower and post it on social media for the world to see. At a time when exhibitionism is a way of life, the flower maintains its stately silence. As the bard says, “To thine own self be true” and the flower lives up to this adage.
As they say, “Which was born in the night, to perish in the night”. In the few hours it has, the flower is in full splendour and captivates us. It does not matter how long the innings, a cameo innings is good enough, but let it be the best possible one. Yesterday is a cancelled cheque, tomorrow a promissory note, but today is ready cash. We resolve to make today count, as if it is the only day available to us.
The flower teaches us to be the best version of ourselves. The flower simply “is” and through its very existence, it gives happiness to one and all. So too, it does not matter, whether we “do” things mighty and far-ranging. It is enough to simply “be” and be the best we can. As the poet says, “If you cannot be a sun, be a star. It is not by size that you win or you fail, be the best of whatever you are.”
Sometimes, we come to the balcony to find we missed the epochal event, the flower had bloomed the previous night, and we failed to notice it. We purse our lips in remorse and regret. How could we be so callous, caught up in daily chores, to the extent that one moment could not be spared? Even in its withered state, the flower smiles back. It has made its point, so complete is its self-effacement that it is willing to live and perish unwept, unhonoured, and unsung.
As poet Kabir says, “Jab hum paida huey jag hanse hum roye (When I was born, the world laughed while I cried), Aisi karni kar chalo, hum hanse jag roye (Let my life be such that when I leave the stage, I laugh, while the world cries).
Life’s greatest lessons are sometimes taught by a simple flower.
shankar.ccpp@gmail.com
The writer is a Bangalore-based freelance contributor
