There wouldn’t be many city residents who have not been paused a moment to marvel at the brilliant blooms of the gulmohar. Clusters of red and orange conceal the green canopy, as if the trees have caught fire — a striking contrast against the clear blue sky.
Strolling through Panampilly Nagar or Fort Kochi during summer, one is sure to sight the resplendent gulmohar — also named Mayflower tree — even from afar. Often mistaken for the ‘Flame of the Forest’ or palash (Butea monosperma), the gulmohar earns its title ‘flame tree’ for precisely this reason.
Interestingly, its primary Indian name evolved from an amalgamation of gul (flower) and mor (peacock). In simple terms, the peacock among trees, courtesy its flamboyance.
Known by several monikers, the gulmohar (Delonix regia) is most familiar to Malayalis as ‘vaaga’. Another popular name, ‘kaalvaari poo’ or Calvary flower, is rooted in the belief that the tree was in full bloom on Mount Calvary at the time of Christ’s crucifixion, its deep red blossoms said to be stained with his blood.
In West Bengal, the tree is known as Krishnachura (flower that adorns Lord Krishna’s head). Its Indian cousin — the copper pod with its vivid yellow flowers — is called ‘Radhachura’.
Though now a common sight across India, the gulmohar is not a native species. Introduced from Madagascar in the mid-19th century, the tree made its first Indian appearance in Mumbai.
According to historian M G Sasibhooshan, it was Travancore maharaja Chithira Thirunal Balarama Varma who popularised gulmohars in Kerala. “During one of his travels to Mysore, he was captivated by the city’s verdant avenues and tree-lined roads. There, he met the Mysore maharaja’s official botanist, Gustav Hermann Krumbiegel, the man behind the design of Lalbagh,” he says.
Impressed by Gustav’s vision, the maharaja invited him to Thiruvananthapuram to create green stretches. “Originally a forest tree, Gustav transformed vaaga into an avenue highlight,” Sasibhooshan adds.
E S Santhosh Kumar, technical officer at Jawaharlal Nehru Tropical Botanic Garden & Research Institute, says many of these non-native trees adapt fast; “they settle in, thrive, and sometimes even push out native species”. “That’s how they eventually became a part of Kerala’s urban greenscape,” he adds.
From Yesudas’s old classic hit ‘Vaagapoo maram choodum’, to Punathil Kunjabdullah’s novel ‘Vakamarangal’ and Vyloppilli Sreedhara Menon’s poem ‘Poovaaka’, the tree has inspired writers and artists, leaving its impact on Kerala’s cultural landscape as well.
“The gulmohar is what I call a ‘showstopper’ — you cannot help but stop and admire it in all its glory. Even when the blooming season has passed, its feathery leaves remain just as charming and eye-catching,” says Aswathi Jerome, a nature enthusiast known for her Instagram page @treesofcochin.
“When the flowers swing in the breeze, the white among the red gives an appearance of a flash, almost like a signboard to attract bees and other insects,”
Aswathi points out that these medium-sized trees are remarkably low-maintenance and can thrive in a variety of conditions, needing little water.
With its expansive, umbrella-shaped canopy and striking beauty, the gulmohar seems an ideal avenue tree — but not without drawbacks.
“Gulmohar is a shallow-rooted tree. It is supported by buttress roots, which grow out of its trunk. Because of this, the tree is rather vulnerable during heavy rains,” Aswathi adds.
Techie-turned-environmentalist and urban forestry expert Manoj Kumar I B agrees. “I have planted a few gulmohars in my mini forests — they are stunningly beautiful. However, such exotic trees cannot survive the ravages of climate change. Only native ones are strong enough to survive those challenges,” he says.
Manoj believes that a balance must be struck between native and exotic trees. “There is no monocrop in nature — the beauty lies in its diversity. We need to plant native trees along with exotic ones to maintain that balance,” he adds.
Manoj recommends planting gulmohars at a safe distance from structures. “It is vital to study about the plants we are planting,” he adds.
While the crimson beauty comes with its challenges, the tree remains a symbol of the nostalgia of the walks under the red blossoms during summertime and the promise of many more blooms yet to come. In some days, as the monsoon sets in, the ‘passionate flames’ of nature will be doused. Until next summer.
With inputs from Parvana K B