Gulmohar

Day 1

I came back from Delhi to an unchanged Trivandrum. Not that I was away for a long time; but one always feel d tardiness of time when away from the homeland.I love the anonymity of Delhi and its infinite space.I love Delhi because she taught me to walk without destination,because she taught me to get lost and find my way back and she also taught me to be free.

Gulmohar is not about Delhi. It is also not about the excruciatingly poignant and beautiful Malayalam film which I must say I experienced a few hours back. Gulmohar is about the path I traversed in Trivandrum before getting acquainted with the Delhi metro. Gulmohar is my memory and my fading shadow.

Many days before... I'm riding my vehicle through a long stretch of smooth road in Trivandrum and all the way I can see the images of blooming Gulmohars reflecting on my windshield and endlessly receding away.Gulmohars all the way on both sides. Brick red umbrellas gently swaying in the wind. No rules,no order.They are swaying with the wind. And I etch my memories on the brick red petals. The memories of the road,of the wind,of the adjacent lake,of my journey.

Today I'm riding again the same path. But I don't find the Gulmohars; Only the dark brown empty tree trunks and branches.This is the wrong season.This is the season to shed, for the brightest red petals tomorrow.I smile at the vast emptiness on both my sides. I smile because I know that this is one path I would never forget and I also know that the Gulmohars would bloom again on both the sides.

Tomorrow I'll go again to see whether it is spring yet.If it is spring there would be red flowers everywhere. Swaying gently. Without rules,without order. And I shall find my bright red petal.My Gulmohar.