Jarul: Petals that touch our souls

If you are a resident of Dhaka, have you noticed a change in the colour of the cityscape? Doesn't it look like the city is wearing a colourful coat atop its regular one? It looks absolutely mesmerising in some places. 

Dhaka awakens each summer to a breathtaking sight - the arrival of vibrant flowers. Of all the flowers, Jarul is the city's undisputed floral queen, casting an instant spell upon anyone who sees it. Even those like me, who did not know the name of the flower, are compelled to notice its beauty.

Whoever named the flower showed unstinting generosity. The Bangla word, Jarul, is poetic. In English, it is called Queen's Flower, given its regal appearance, and in the botanical lexicon, scientists named it Lagerstroemia speciosa. Speciosa is Latin for beautiful.

Many spots in Uttara, Gulshan, Mirpur Road, the Parliament area, Eskaton, Dhanmondi, Dhaka University Campus and Ramna are adorned with Jarul. 

Bangladesh might not have cherry blossoms like Japan, but Jarul is known as Bengal's cherry. If you take a Metro ride from end to end and look outside, you will be greeted with flashes of Jarul here and there. 

Around Bangabandhu International Conference Center, like a newlywed beautiful bride who lifts her veil with grace, the Jarul announces its presence with a gradual flourish to cover the landscape with its hue. Once cloaked in green, trees erupt in a cascade of lavender and purple. Delicate clusters of flowers drape the branches, their soft fragrance a gentle perfume on the hot summer breeze.

As people's lives reach a boiling point because of the punishing heatwave, these flowers bring a little respite. You can have 101 reasons to hate the city, and Jarul can make you forget all of them and believe that the city is not that bad.

In spring, Jarul awakens from its slumber, unfurling leaves like emerald fans. Its branches stretch toward the sun, reaching for the heavens. And then, the magic happens — the buds burst forth, revealing clusters of flowers that defy Shakespeare's sonnets on beauty.

A large Jarul tree in front of the Senate Building of Dhaka University seems to be having a conversation over the wall with another tree on the roof of Hazi Muhammad Mohsin Hall's guest room, making passersby witness their debate on who is more beautiful; or who has the most flowers.

A few trees in front of the Institute of Modern Languages are crowned with blossoms, each petal a shade between lilac and pinkish-violet. The Jarul flowers cascade in profusion, like delicate crêpe paper.

"There are very few things on earth as beautiful as clusters of Jarul flowers," commented a DU student, Jarin Tasnim, while collecting petals from the walkway.

These flowers are now difficult to avoid, adorning the city's parks, gardens and private property boundaries. A walk through the lake road beside Crescent Lake invites walkers to pause, inhale, and lose themselves in Jarul's ephemeral beauty. 

Many cannot refrain from capturing the flower's slow and elegant dance. "These flowers are really beautiful; I wanted to capture a photo for my phone's wallpaper," said Tamanna Akter, a student.

As the seasons change, so does the Jarul. 

In spring, Jarul awakens from its slumber, unfurling leaves like emerald fans. Its branches stretch toward the sun, reaching for the heavens. And then, the magic happens — the buds burst forth, revealing clusters of flowers that defy Shakespeare's sonnets on beauty. They are poetry etched in colour, a symphony of petals that sing of life, love, and longing.

"You cannot just limit my grace; I will sprawl in whatever direction I like and dance in my rhythm," Jarul would say. 

Poet Jibanananda Das' obsession with Jarul is no wonder. In a poem, he wrote, "There is a place in this world, the most beautiful / There are trees: jackfruit, aswattha, banyan, jarul, hijal."

The flowers have the power to dissolve Dhaka's cacophony of vendors' calls and the vexing honking of vehicles. The blooming grace hypnotises, making you not want to pass it.

In Dhanmondi 8/A. Atiqur Rahman, a resident of the area, said, "seeing these flowers day in and day out fills my heart and revives my mood."

From April to June, Jarul flowers are seen in places like roadsides. These trees have not grown under the care of anyone, rather they have grown in nature, according to their own rules. When summer comes, these trees bloom and petals fall, making a lavender carpet for whoever walks under it.

The Jarul tree is native to the Indian subcontinent. Apart from Bangladesh and India, the tree is found in China, Malaysia, Myanmar, Sri Lanka, Indonesia, Thailand and the Philippines. It can grow well in lowland wetlands, but has no problem adapting to dry areas. 

Noted naturalist Dwijen Sharma, in his book 'Shyamali Nisarga,' described how its leaves are long, broad and dark green. While the purple colour of the Jarul flower is attractive, its flexible soft petals are beautiful. The fruit is oval. After flowering, the branches begin to bear fruit. Jarul flowers last till the monsoon autumn.

In late spring, the bare branches turn green again with bright leaves, followed by flowering. The petals of the violet-coloured flowers are one inch long and tender. Stamen are numerous and yellow. In the centre of the flower, many short stamens are intertwined. The tree wears a coat of flaky light grey or cream. 

When the Mughals ruled these lands, the Jarul is said to have arrived as an exotic guest. The court poets composed verses in her honour, weaving her into the fabric of Dhaka's culture. They called her "Flos Reginae," the imperial flower of queens — a title she wore with grace.

In Hindu mythology, it is said that worshipping Lord Brahma results in the blossoming of the flowers of the Giant Crape Myrtle and Banaba tree, and as such, it brings prosperity to the house. In Buddhism, this plant is said to have been used as a tree for achieving enlightenment.

Jarul's reign is short-lived. It will go soon and leave Dhaka with a renewed sense of hope, a promise that beauty, like the Jarul, will return to grace the city year after year.