The gate to the botanical garden
the botanical garden is one of the wonders of this city. Exotic plants, replanting of which are part of the civilising of the natives, perhaps.. mauve jacarandas, pink tabebuias, yellow copper pods..none of them grow in england, but from her different colonies and now the raj effects this sharing, an exchange. women with white mogra and jasmine in their hair in the native quarters. in the planned parts of the cities, vistas of pink, mauve and yellow flowers and women in pale clothes walking those pavements.
The gardens lie towards the west of the city.. cooler climes for quieter flowers. There is a garden called Baroda or Vadodara This is the garden of youth, Phalke's youth as landscaped in a series of plants and dreaming spires. Parrots and sundials, toy trains and voice boxes, crocodiles and root hair, young researchers of the shastras, dancing girls from other regions, shakespeare in marathi with parrot beaks, the first dream of flying, all happen in the leeward side of the city, the quiet shadow where a young man can lie in a park and dream as the primary verb activity he undertakes.
Kolhapur lies to the north, the larger mountain over the hill at Trymbakesvar Nasik is the name of a canal that flows from the east, towards the centre of the city and goes cold as the sun passes away down south.
there are the forgotten gardens in the city- banaras, some say in the shape of a mandala, some not. messy. godhra, which should have been better preserved, it is the place of early grief, a simple pretty building, a two way mirror, flower gardens make that place. Like the palace of a first queen who died young. Some say they are referring to Sayaji Rao's first wife, some, to Phalke's. There is a swing in the courtyard, small bushes that are still tended to, white plaster railings to flower beds, flowers that persist as the sun climbs up. Two large mango trees, their leaves turning a fresh green. A place to sleep under, on the dry lawn. Small flowerpots now, on all the edges.
शहर के सारे बाग एक मोर की पूंछ भर थे. एक दिन मोर उड़ा और शाहर उपवांों से खाली हो गया. चूहों को उड़ता देख मोर उड़ा..
शहर के इन बंद घरों का क्या, इन रास्तों का क्या, यहाँ कितने वाक्य बनते बिगाड़डे हुए कितने मन क्या क्या कहते होंगे. खिड़कियाँ बंद हैं, पर अंदर की आवाज़ें सुन पाते तो?
