Pavizhamalli Bloom
There is a sense a deja vu when this Pavizhamalli blooms!
It blooms in the months of September -October. I have vivid memories of this flower right from my childhood. I lived in Postal and Telegraph Colony on the first floor. My neighbour's garden downstairs had this tree and my early mornings would be filled with the sweet smell of these Pavizhamalli flowers. As a young boy, I often used to run to the garden in the morning to get those flowers that were all strewn on the ground. We usually pick it from the ground as we cannot directly pick it up from the tree. I always wanted a home on the ground floor so that I can also have the tree in my garden, as the owner of the tree would always give us a dirty look when we go to pick flowers.
These tiny flowers bright white petals and the dark saffron very short stock was a sight to behold. There was also an untold competition as too who gets the most flowers. We used to clear the entire ground of flowers, so fast, so that others do not get the flowers. Sometimes friendly neighbourhood aunties would waylay us by taking some flowers from us but with a big smile. After getting a basketful, my job back home is to make a garland stringing the flower with a needle and a thread. And adorn it to the Ramar Photo, the presiding deity in our swami room of our house. It was a sight to behold. This continued for years.
Then we shifted to our own house and we have our own garden and we have our own Pavizhamalli Tree. Flowers bloom in September/October. But as I grew, I lost the patience of picking up the flowers. I pick a few and most of it goes unpicked. But I have a strong attachment to the flowers.
Around three or four years back, my late mother was very sick and was hospitalized. It was early October. Doctors had given up hopes and so did we. I used to come home every morning from the hospital cook and take food to my mother. There was Pavizhamalli bloom again. I used it to take these flowers to my mother and tell her about how these flowers were in full bloom and the entire ground underneath is filled with the flowers. She would silently stare at me.
Now, with my childhood lost and my mother gone, it is bloom time for Pavizhamalli and I search for all the things that I have lost in the sweet smell of the flowers.
There is a sense a deja vu when this Pavizhamalli blooms!
It blooms in the months of September -October. I have vivid memories of this flower right from my childhood. I lived in Postal and Telegraph Colony on the first floor. My neighbour's garden downstairs had this tree and my early mornings would be filled with the sweet smell of these Pavizhamalli flowers. As a young boy, I often used to run to the garden in the morning to get those flowers that were all strewn on the ground. We usually pick it from the ground as we cannot directly pick it up from the tree. I always wanted a home on the ground floor so that I can also have the tree in my garden, as the owner of the tree would always give us a dirty look when we go to pick flowers.
These tiny flowers bright white petals and the dark saffron very short stock was a sight to behold. There was also an untold competition as too who gets the most flowers. We used to clear the entire ground of flowers, so fast, so that others do not get the flowers. Sometimes friendly neighbourhood aunties would waylay us by taking some flowers from us but with a big smile. After getting a basketful, my job back home is to make a garland stringing the flower with a needle and a thread. And adorn it to the Ramar Photo, the presiding deity in our swami room of our house. It was a sight to behold. This continued for years.
Then we shifted to our own house and we have our own garden and we have our own Pavizhamalli Tree. Flowers bloom in September/October. But as I grew, I lost the patience of picking up the flowers. I pick a few and most of it goes unpicked. But I have a strong attachment to the flowers.
Around three or four years back, my late mother was very sick and was hospitalized. It was early October. Doctors had given up hopes and so did we. I used to come home every morning from the hospital cook and take food to my mother. There was Pavizhamalli bloom again. I used it to take these flowers to my mother and tell her about how these flowers were in full bloom and the entire ground underneath is filled with the flowers. She would silently stare at me.
Now, with my childhood lost and my mother gone, it is bloom time for Pavizhamalli and I search for all the things that I have lost in the sweet smell of the flowers.
