An Amaltas in the front yard!

 

I have a very special amaltas/kanni konna story!

Over our main gate was an arch that was covered with the very charming Madhumalati creeper. It was a wrought iron gate, big enough for a car and a half and had two pillars on either side. On the left was a neem tree and on the right side a bougainvillea in a fabulous orange shade, that I have rarely come across later. Over the years the arch slowly became irreparable. The madhumalati shifted to a pergola inside the garden. Then Papa wanted a flowering tree in the front yard, near the gate, such that he could see it from the verandah! Our verandah provided a tiny sitting area with a swing and two garden chairs and was a favourite with everyone! The gul mohur was a bit further in and seen much better when one was outdoors. What a dilemma!

I suggested the amaltas! I was always fond of the golden yellow flowers that looked like jhumkas, chandelier earrings that looked so pretty! So, we went to the local nursery and got a sapling!

 

(Image by Susann Mielke from Pixabay )

Planted with care and watered regularly the tree grew, tall and sturdy but did not flower. Now that was a big problem! The entire purpose of planting it in the exact spot it was there was to enjoy floral delights! What was wrong with this tree? Someone suggested hanging a chappal on it which I dutifully did but the scientist in Papa scoffed at it. The gardener decided that manure in the form of eggshells might help so that was done! Someone suggested tea leaves and another suggestion was to add a couple of calcium tablets to the soil. We did it all.

Finally, when I was home for a bit during the festival season Papa declared that he was going to chop that tree and plant another one there, one that flowers! I was heart-broken; literally pleaded with him to give it just one more year! If there are still no flowers then, maybe… Grudgingly, he gave in!

Almost 6 months later, early one morning the phone rang. At that hour in the morning, only my Papa called. The rest of the world was usually still waking up.  Rushing to pick it up I heard my father’s excited voice at the other end, ‘Your tree has flowered! It has a bunch of buds and one tiny bright yellow flower’, he said.’ It stays.’