THE SILK COTTON TREE

It is a sweet, touching story in Thamizh, albeit sad.

There was once a parrot which sat on a tree and watched its blossoms turn into shining green fruits. The parrot waited and waited for them to ripen to take its first bite from the fruits. Alas, the fruits never turned yellow or red, but dried into brown crisp pods, finally bursting and revealing inside – white inedible cotton.

This tree in the story is called the ‘ilavan’ tree and the cotton is called ‘ilavan panju’ – what I am told is the silk cotton. The unfruitful wait of the parrot gave rise to the phrase in Thamizh ‘ilavu katha kili’ – the parrot that waited in vain.

The tree is found abundantly in our neighbourhood – my brother-in-law next door has one in his compound. I had to cross one of these on the pavement, (no doubt planted at the same time as the one-day blooming tree outside our house) when I walked to work, and I watched it grow from a sapling to a young tree, though I did not realise then that it was the cotton tree. As it grew I noticed that its trunk and branches were green, and at first I imagined that someone might have painted them in that vivid shade. Later I realised as it grew higher that it is the natural colour of the tree.

Somehow I never saw the flowers – maybe I did not look carefully enough at the right time. The green pods are rather longish like bananas and shiny.


They dry on the tree, and fall off often bursting only upon falling.



Now is the time/season they start falling. People like this lady collect the pods, and remove the cotton. I asked her what she would do with it, and she said she was planning to stuff a pillow.

Sweet silk-cotton dreams.

TASTE OF SUMMER

I recently read that instead of moaning about the heat of summer, we should watch out for its delights and pleasures.
Though one may question this apparent oxymoron, when we look around there certainly are pleasing sights. The shade giving trees on the streets of Chennai are blooming, and are a visual treat.
The golden acacia has bloomed and now its brown pods stand silhouetted against the sky. And countless other trees, like the laburnum, with mauve and lavender flowers have bloomed and subsided. The Mayflower, or the flame of the forest, (gul mohur), true to its name sent out its first buds in May.

But mangoes are the taste of summer.

We have a few trees in our compound, all of which grew from the seeds thrown out after the children ate the juicy flesh. Each tree bears a different type of mango, and over the years we have learnt to distinguish their tastes and their varying uses. One of the trees, the oldest, has fruits which are not at all sour when green, and so can be eaten like a salad vegetable. We thought the fruit may not taste very sweet when ripe. But it turned out to be as sweet as it is pretty with its rosy tinge as it ripened.


The parrots love them, and get to them before we do. The appearance of this fruit is really a visual pleasure - a text book pictorial representation of a mango.

This is one of the oldest. Another old tree bears fruit that is dreadfully sour when green, and so is used for pickling, as it is not at all tasty when it ripens.


A latecomer tree was a surprise. Its green fruit is very sour, but turned out to be very delicious when ripened. Folks in the know say that the more sour it is when it is green, the sweeter it is when it is ripe. We plucked the mangoes and ripened them, and shared them with friends. They don’t look as big or attractive as the big ones in the market, but were definitely as tasty and sweet.


The mango season is almost over, but one tree is confused, pushing forth new blooms , even while there are biggish mangoes on its branches. This is the tree, whose branch collapsed and down it fell with a whole lot of unripe mangoes, unfortunately too young to be ripened. Surely it was not due to the weight of the young mangoes! We salvaged what we could and distributed them.

The ripening fruits on the trees are pounced on by the squirrels and birds alike, and knock them down. Some of them fall on our neighbour’s asbestos sheet covered shed, with big plonks. We have now got used to this thwack/squelch sound. Our neighpour’s tree, in return, sheds its fruit into our compound, but without any sound effects. Unfortunately the fruits crack when they fall, and cannot really be used.


The markets are flooded by ripe mangoes. I saw them being transported on our busy road on a bullock cart, and and a fish cart.

I loved the woman hitching a ride while her husband called out!

ONE-DAY-SUMMER-TREAT

It is all over. About three months of preparation,bit by bit, little by little, advancing to the final day – all just for one day, or maybe two, of glorious celebration.

I call it the one-day-kalyanam (wedding) tree. Its real name is unknown to me. If any of you can identify it, do please enlighten me. When it is in bloom, it looks like a pale golden haze from afar – the effect of leafless branches bearing the blossoms.



I noticed it first in 2006. A few years ago in one of its environment conscious moods, the city corporation had planted a seedling on the pavement outside our compound wall, (as well as other places on the street) which grew little by little, and became large enough to block the view from our first floor balcony, with its green leaves.

I was happy to see it grow, but was amazed one March to find that I could see right across the street. Where had the leaves gone? I worried that the tree might have started dying. But no, there appeared little dangling vines, bearing tight yellow buds, and waving in the breeze like streamers. I waited and watched, and watched, till one fine day in May it burst out in all its golden glory. I had almost missed the great blossoming. For about a couple of days the blossoms hung on the delicate vines, before falling on the ground and covering it with a fine gold dust. And then back to square one. The new leaves grew in a week, and I had to wait another year to see this glorious tree flowering.

This year I decided to record its blossoming, but I found that other trees inside our compound had decided to grow higher – the coconut palm had after 10 years suddenly decided to grow (that is another story), and so had the Asoka trees. Still I looked for the suitable gap between these and managed a few pictures.

March 12

April 1

April 17

May 5

May 13

May 16

May 25

After 5 years, I managed to catch the tree in full bloom today, (April 24, 2014).

Do click on the other pictures for an enlarged view.

SUMMER SIGHTS AND DELIGHTS IN MYLAPORE

It is beginning to get very hot here in Madras/Chennai - to those living in cooler climes, it would already seem very hot, but the dog days are yet to come, after the Thamizh New Year sets in.

Nature has its own way of making up for the discomforts of seasons. Street shops, sprout up with the seasonal treats that cool us off. The gorgeous , succulent watermelons, are a treat to the eye as well.


This variety of cucumber, tastes marvellous with the salt and pepper (which the vendor readily provides you with - at least, he used to, I did not check it this time).


Water stored and cooled in porous mud pots tastes sweeter than water from the fridge. These were selling like hot cakes, pardon the expression. The flatter versions seen here are used for cooking and storing food.


Tender baby mangoes, which are bought by the measure, and pickled in brine to last the year round - a most popular delicacy, and the best accompaniment to the ultimate coolant thayir saadham (rice and curds). The bigger mangoes to the top of the picture will give you an idea of the size of these.)


And these lovely colours, golden yellow acacia and the magenta bougainvilla.




The pictures look better when enlarged - please click on them.