All lit up

At the Dalma Wildlife Sanctuary in Jharkhand, Taran and his family are captivated by the radiant hues of orange and red.

“It really does feel like the forest is on fire!” Taran did a twirl with his hands in the air. They were in the Dalma Wildlife Sanctuary, near the city of Jamshedpur in Jharkhand. The Palash flower — the state flower — was in full bloom.

“Well, that’s why it is called the Flame of the Forest! Just look at the colours of orange and red,” said Amma. She picked up a flower that had fallen to the ground.

“That looks like a parrot’s beak!” remarked Appa, pointing to a part of the flower. “Folklore says the Palash tree sprouted from a falcon’s feather dipped in nectar. It is a truly remarkable tree; resin is extracted from the tree, the broad leaves are used as disposable plates or fashioned into bowls and the colours from the flower are used to make dyes.

“Tea made from the flowers is also full of antioxidants,” added Amma, who had lately been drinking all sorts of teas.

Dash of history

“Of course, for me, the most interesting thing about the Palash flower is the connection between its name and the famous battle that turned the tide for a certain trading company in 1757. Can anyone guess which battle?” asked Appa.

Taran, who had just been studying his history books before the holiday, chimed in, “1757? I know! The Battle of Plassey. But what is the connection? Ah! Are Plassey and Palash connected, Appa?”

“Bingo!” said Appa. “Palashi is a town in West Bengal, named after the Palash flower where the Battle of Plassey took place. Plassey is the anglicised name. Nawab Siraj-ud-Daulah, who was the last independent ruler of Bengal, was defeated by the British forces led by Lord Clive. It was the start of a lot of power changes. It marked the advent of British rule in Bengal — from traders to rulers.”

“Wow! I will never look at the Palash flower the same way again. What a fire starter! Though the flower didn’t technically do anything ... but still!” exclaimed Taran, looking at the flower with new admiration.

Taran and his parents got into the jeep and made their way to the top of Dalma hill where there was a little temple. The view was spectacular. “This is so enchanting. No smoke or fire but a forest that is lit up.”

Appa opened a small picnic basket with the local favourite: Litti Choka.

“Oh wow! This is delicious!” commented Taran, stuffing a piece of the round litti with some choka into his mouth. “I can’t decide what is the best part of the trip: a dollop of history and nature or a bite of local cuisine.”

Amma and Appa smiled, as they packed their picnic, ready to head back.