At the heart of South Kolkata, in the Agri-horticultural Park in Alipore, grows an impressive collection of rare shrubs and trees. Two of the most outstanding trees in this green oasis are from Africa – the Monodara calabash nutmeg and the Baobab.
Both trees have large, striking flowers that dangle on pendulous stems and festoon the branches like miniature Chinese lanterns, and both were planted by Sydney Percy Lancaster in 1894. Lancaster was made responsible for the plantation of the Agri-horticultural Park in Kolkata, the Sundar Nursery in Delhi, Gandhiji’s Samadhi and the Lucknow gardens, amongst several of the most beautiful gardens in India. In fact, the Latin names of many varieties of cannas, cosmos and hibiscus bear testimony to Lancaster’s path-breaking experiments in bio-diversity – and include the suffix Lancasterii.
In terms of sheer size and longevity, the baobab, or the adansania digitata is Lancaster’s most significant contribution to his gardens. As long as the baobab stands in Kolkata, it serves as a living memorial for Lancaster, and since the oldest baobab in Africa is estimated to be older than 3000 years old, it will be around for a while. If only our political leaders too chose to plant commemorative and magnificent trees as tributes to their political legacies, rather than constructing giant statues!
Mayawati’s parks for instance, are inhabited by stone animals and phoenix palms which provide little shade for visitors or a canopy for birds. A public park which reduces existing greenery, like the one along the Noida river-front is an oxymoron. Botanists and gardeners should have a role to play in the plantation of public parks in India, like they do elsewhere in the world.
The baobab is a grand, gorgeous tree which grows to a monumental size of up to 50 metres in width, often hollowing out after it reaches maturity. The texture and size of the trunk has given it the epithet Hatiyan Ka Jhad or elephant-sized tree in Hyderabad. Until April 2017, a baobab in Limpopo in South Africa was famous for the pub housed inside it.
The deciduous baobab produces no rings in the trunk as it ages, so instead, carbon dating is the way to determine the age of a mature tree. Along with the largest tree trunk girth, the spongy texture of the baobab’s trunk also ensures water retention, increasing chances of survival in its natural habitat in sub-Saharan Africa. Desert tribes in Africa have been known to quench their thirst by tapping this tree, estimated to hold up to 10,000 litres of water. In arid areas, the baobab provides life-giving succour to both animals and humans. Its striking flowers, which bloom by night, have a slightly malodorous scent which attracts fruit bats – the chief pollinators of the flower.
There are eight related varieties of the baobab, stretching from Africa to Madagascar. The Australian relative, which has the same distinctive swollen caudex and bottle-like appearance, was supposedly carried on oceanic currents which originated from Africa.
Also known as the Tree of life in Africa and the Kalpvriksh or wish-fulfilling tree in India, the baobab would be a welcome addition to drought-prone regions of the country, but no serious effort has been made to plant this tree in India’s arid states post-Independence. The name Kalpvriksh, which indicates its life-giving nature, also alludes to the mystic power of the tree which emerged from the samudra-manthan, or the churning of the ocean, in the famous Hindu mythological tale. According to this legend, the fruit of the baobab tree is supposed to impart the consumer with divine, life-reviving properties.
The fruit which is the size of a small coconut, and has a very long shelf-life as it dries naturally on the branch, is in vogue today in the US as a superfood, due to its high content of Vitamin C. It is also extremely rich in anti-oxidants. Its slightly tart and powdery pulp is a good flavouring agent for curries and milkshakes.
Possibly carried on dhows from Africa during medieval times by Arab sailors to ward off scurvy, the fruit’s seeds were planted by traders near Islamic mosques, port towns and hostelries, which is why it is called the Khorasani imli in Mandu (a picturesque hamlet in Madhya Pradesh where the large number of baobabs are a delight to behold). In Maharashtra, the baobab’s fruit is known as Gorakh chinchi – chinchi also means tamarind and it’s interesting the way names travel, along with the trees they are attached to.
Other coastal areas which were important for sea trade have a number of old baobabs which are almost 100 feet high, with girths of more than 25 metres. It has been noticed that the trees exist in areas where the Deccani Sultanates flourished. India has several of the African varieties, some are several thousand years old. Mandu, Pune, Wai, Diu and Uran beach are all blessed with ancient trees. Gujarat’s trees also date back to hundreds of years ago, when sea trade was prevalent.
A lesser-known site with an interesting baobab story in Rajasthan is the near-abandoned town of Lodurva, 15 km from Jaisalmer. An actual tree is supposed to have existed on the spot, and when it died, temple priests replaced it with a life-sized tree made of ashtadhatu, or the auspicious alloy of eight metals. The leaves were considered wish-fulfilling, and many of them were stolen. Now, the tree is encased in a protective cage, which does diminish its beauty.
Animated films have a special fondness for the Madagascar baobab – they appear prominently in the animated film of the same name too. The French bestseller Le Petit Prince also prominently mentions the baobab. These trees look different from their African relatives, and with their architecturally stylised shapes, are called the upside-down tree, as they have enormous trunks with even more foreshortened branches to conserve water.
Delhi’s tree canopy has been mapped by author Pradip Krishen in his excellent book, The Trees of Delhi, and apart from the public park in Mehrauli, Garden of Five Senses which was opened in 2003 – most of Delhi’s tree diversity owes its existence to pre-Independence plantation. Only a few baobabs are visible in Delhi, the oldest is in the Buddha Jayanti Park, which too has been damaged by storms.
It is not an easy tree to source, but a nursery in New Delhi’s Jorbagh called Rajdhani nursery found a baby baobab five years ago, which we planted in a park near my house. It grows taller every year, although it is yet to flower. There is something stirring in the thought that once it matures fully, it may stand enormous and proud in this park for thousands of years, even as everything around it changes, long after this colony and in fact maybe even this city have vanished.
Selina Sen’s book Gardening in Urban India was published by DK, Random House earlier this year.
