 |
| Source:- Internet |
The ushering in of spring has been an inspiration for poets and authors across the world. Memories from the lanes of nostalgia visit and revisit us riding on the spring breeze. Spring is not just a season for us; it has served as a metaphor, an emotion for us since time immemorial. Time and again it has evoked connotations of love, passion, happiness and birth in nature. The winds of spring paint the landscapes in a variety of hues. The painted picture may be different in different parts of the world but the essence of spring is unmistakably the same.
If winter in the Western countries can be denoted by the pristine shade of white, the colour of spring in Bengal is a passionate shade of red along with a touch of yellow (Basanti to be precise). Once again, the shade of "basanti" is characteristic to Bangalis and only they know what romanticism is intrinsically mixed with that word. It is a shade of yellow that ignites the passion of spring in our minds, the purity of the basanti sarees worn by women on the morning of Saraswati Pujo or the smell of abir on Doljatra. Greenery makes way for itself after the dry leaves have turned the paths brown and orange and left the silhouetted trees barren against the bright sky. The newly sprouted foliage get complimented by the fiery red and yellow blooms of spring that light up the environment in ecstasy. It is the same note of exuberance and romanticism that nature sparks in our minds as well.
For Bangalis, nature and seasons have a lot to do with festivals. Just like Durga Puja cannot be complete without the lotus and the kaash phool waving against the blue sky, Doljatra in Spring is incomplete without the Palash. In fact, the entire concept of Doljatra or Basanta Utsav is linked with the celebration of the bounty of nature. It is time to shed off all that has dried up with the winter and welcome the new blooms. It is time to colour your minds with the colour and essence of spring. The child in us wants the madness of Holi but the youth in us craves for the romanticism of the maddening beauty of spring colouring our minds red and yellow.
On any given day in February or March, if you happen to take your eyes away from your smartphone and look out of the windows of the bus or car you are trapped in, you can definitely spot a wave of red against the bright blue sky, The blooms of Palash, Shimul and Krishnachura leave no stone unturned to paint the city red in the stretches where trees exist. The scene outside the window has the vibrancy of an oil painting, full of life with brushstrokes of multiple shades of red and tangerine. Though most of these trees are native to the red soil regions of Bankura, Birbhum and Purulia where the landscape appears as if on fire, Kolkata also gets her share of decking up in colours of love. In fact, just like you cannot stop a tree from expanding its roots, you cannot hold back the force of spring even amidst concrete. Or else, why would a place like Esplanade suddenly have a tree that's bending under the weight of Shimul blooming in hundreds?
 |
| Shimul |
It just needs people to take up their heads from the snippets of 'breaking news' bombarding our smartphones and sanity together at each moment. Nature never fails to knock at our doors with the blushing hues of ecstasy; we fail to notice it. It is not that hard to find any remnant of Ashoka or Palash left in the city, waiting to smile at you at any quaint lane or corner like a long lost friend. Take a walk while the sweet breeze sweeps the streets red with the raining Krishnachura and even the bitterness of life won't seem that bad. That's what spring does to you. It colours you with poetry and passion to endure the harshness of everything in life.
 |
| Palash |
 |
| Rudrapalash |
 |
| Krishnachura Source:- Internet |
