‘in sync with one another’ – as beautiful and as elusive as that:Partners
Another one from my Mashoodpur visit. I found this hardy little plant nonchalantly flowering among the stones and bricks of the wall between two houses in this little urban village of Delhi.
I am not able to recall its name in my native language but i used to have this in my flower-pot sometime back. It is quite a perfect kind of plant to be suspended in those hanging pots. It has bigger flower – bigger than the one in this picture which is in fact smaller than that of an oxalis bloom. The ones in my flower spot had similarly given miniature versions of the bloom just like this one but its parent plant had bigger blooms. I wonder if it has to do with soil.
According to the flowers of India, this is the portulaca grandiflora also called the moss rose. I always thought portulaca was another plant (apparently i had mistaken it for purslane). the interesting thing is how this flower is quite the time-keeper: in Bangladesh it is known as time-phool (time flower), in Hindi it is called nau-baje or 9 o’clock as it flowers around this time of the day and in Vietnam it is called 10 O’clock.
It must be quite a punctual flower to be given such a time-specific name! I wonder what it would have been called before the clock was invented!
My second post from my Mashoodpur visit. As I mentioned in my first post, I had accompanied a friend to this rather large urban village of Delhi. As part of her own research, Supriya Singh is studying the available water resources and access to water in the village. As we walked down in the interiors of the village, we were welcomed by two ladies to drop by. Their house was a one-storeyed structure surrounded by three-or-so storeyed buildings from three sides with the one remaining side opening out to a small path that serves as an artery between the congested houses. On the roof of the house, I came across several items that were of little or no use value. In this corner is a pile of earthen pots which, I presume can still be used but is not of much use. Perhaps, a similar fate is that of the spindle on the side. The water cooler stand has perhaps been not of use this summer as it stands in the sunny roof.
The silence depressed me. It wasn’t the silence of silence. It was my own silence. ~Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
Some days back, I accompanied a friend on a visit to Mashoodpur, an urban village in Delhi. I happened upon this big babool (sc. vachellia nilotica) tree with lovely yellow flowers. I caught sight of many children playing around in the ground partially shaded by the tree. A barber had also opened shop in the open area – his shop consisted of a chair, a mirror and his tools. He was busy with his customer. The scene reminded me of a lifestyle that I no longer associate with Delhi.
I took a couple of pictures of the tree and wondered if I should take a picture of the scene in front of me or if people would mind me doing so. That was when a couple of children intervened to take the decision for me. They happily asked me to take their picture.