MM: Monsoon bring a bouquet of unexpected flora: July 19, 2009

For a season that has become synonymous with traffic snarls, water-logging and the idiosyncrasies of the Mithi, the monsoon does bring a refreshing blanket of green to a predominantly grey city. And aside from the obvious trails and treks in the surrounding Sahyadri range, nature lovers needn’t look further afield for their dose of Bombay botany. For starters, there is Congress Grass, known to grow practically anywhere. The grass is so informally monikered thanks to the white flowers that adorn it, like the topis of our netas. Likewise, it’s better not to get too close to this species when on the field; extreme contact may cause asthma and eczema it turns out, even if the plant is actually used in traditional medicine. Yet another blossom to be seen all over Mumbai is ‘besharam’ — its uninhibited capacity to be available anywhere earning it the infamous title; biologically it is known as Ipomoea Carnea, its common name in English being Hedge Glory. Says Isaac Kehimkar, General Manager of Programmes at BNHS (Bombay Natural History Society), whose book Common Indian Wild Flowers is a detailed, comprehensive catalogue on the wealth of uncultivated greenery that we often overlook, “The monsoons are a good time for nature lovers to start searching for incidental flourishes apparent in our city. For instance, there is a species called Railway Glory, specially named so because it is known to grow as a creeper along railway tracks,” says he. 

Similarly, the Giant Milkweed, the Indian Turnsole and the Yellow-Berried Nightshade are some other floral types that grow on degraded land: Mumbaikars can avail of plenty of opportunities to spot them if they look hard enough. While the Milkweed and Nightshade are hosted on prickly, scratchy shrubs in the wastelands, the Turnsole is a caterpillar-shaped herb, on the back of which mushroom a bouquet of tiny flowers. 

And yet standards could be raised for those who sneer at the mention of Dhatura (Thorn Apple), which despite its naff connotations does boast of a trumpet-shaped blossom, or the Mimosa, which clams up at the mere provocation of touch, but at its high noon has a violet, spiky bloom. The Hill Tumeric is an exotic delight and something you could find within a five-minute walk into the Sanjay Gandhi National Park (née Borivali National Park). Ditto for the Bristle Gourd, which while known better for a thorny fruit that can be cooked into a delicious sabzi also has a yellow flower to identify it by.

“Coat Buttons are yet another roadside occurrence and can also be tracked down in this season. The charm in locating the commonplace is the astonishing diversity at hand we Mumbaikars have at hand,” says Kehimkar, who has also written extensively on butterflies. Not all floral vagabonds are desi goondas though: two imports, for example, such as the Lantana and the Goat Weed, originally came from Latin America centuries ago and were naturalised throughout the subcontinent. Initially exotic, their wilder, wanton leanings have caused them to transform into casual pedestrian events, making them easily accessible. 

Still the wicked colours and the enchanting natural origami gloss over a darker truth: a good number of wild flowers in India are endangered today, being rabidly plucked for medicinal use by insensitive pharmaceutical conglomerates. “Aside from the rapid industrialisation that leads to the erosion of habitats, when such firms commission the collecting of ‘samples’, precious tubers are lost; when a tuber is lost, the plant can’t be cultivated again. We have to remember that these are wild flowers that grow in the forest; their cultivation is a delicate and rare process. If you disturb the cycle, a species becomes easily endangered.”

   Much beauty is lost in such indiscriminately avaricious weather. The Glory Lily is one such victim of the tragic phenomenon. Hunted for its tubers to extract alkaloid, the stunning and exceptionally designed flower is a vanishing sort.