The Scarlet Pimpernels of the Mountains

A bunch for Rs 10

I was in Mussoorie two weeks ago, and the timing couldn't have been more perfect. As luck would have it, I managed to witness the last of the rhododendron in bloom. A week too late, and I would have missed this wonderful phenomenon, though at that time I knew nothing about either of them. But I am getting ahead of the story here; so let me put things in perspective.

Thoughtful @Happy Valley, temple in the background

We drove from Delhi to Mussoorie, my friends and I. After long hours on the road without any incidents, if you don’t count occasional arguments, over eating and back seat driving, we were at Mussoorie. The trip was unplanned and we didn't have a reservation, which meant we drove for a while trying to figure out a place to stay. We eventually checked into a  decent hotel and our chaperone and acting chauffeur Anurag, decided to take a nap. So the two of us, Gowri Sundararajan and I, partners in crime, decided to explore Mussoorie on our own.

Last of spring at Rusty's Mussoorie 

I grew up with Ruskin Bond’s books, and to travel to Rusty’s town was almost like a dream come true. On rainy days in Kerala, book in hand, I used to wonder what spring would look like on the mountains of Mussoorie and Doon. In my mind’s eye, I imagined wild violet flowers growing from the cracks between the walls and small white flowers blooming all along the forest trail, just like the writer said they would. Walking away from the town towards Happy Valley, which has India’s first Tibetan temple (Shedup Choephelling), I noticed that spring was everywhere - in the air, in the mountain cracks, on rotting tree trunks and on tall trees. Photographing these flowers almost became an obsession. 

But it was en route to Dhanaulti, that I noticed wild red flowers growing on tall trees along the steep mountain side. Tucked between dark green coniferous trees, the flaming reds of these flowers looked like mountain fire. As the roads coiled and curved, I strained my neck for a better view.

A 25-km drive can take close to two hours on the mountain roads. Worried that we might be on the wrong track we stopped and asked for directions at an intersection. There, in a small shop facing a scenic mountain drop, I noticed rows of scarlet bottles with pictures of the now familiar flower. That’s how I found out about rhododendrons, locally known as Burans. Interestingly, these red rhododendrons are Nepal’s national flower and closer home in Uttarakhand they are recognised as the state tree and the locals consider it a gift from the Gods, with divine powers. It is said to be good for the heart and the liver and is also used in treating diseases like asthma and high blood pressure. Traditionally, house guests are greeted with a glass of homemade burans juice. Chutneys and pickles made from this flower are local delicacies.

Scarlet blooms

According to the annual report (2009-10) published by the Uttarakhand Forestry Research Institute (Haldwani) burans is a tough crop to grow; because the seedling survival of this variety is only 10-12 per cent. Put this alongside the ratio of deforestation for fire wood, and things don’t look good for these scarlets. But an increasing awareness about its uses and the international market gravitating towards organically prepared burans juice, this tree named in the Guinness World Records as the largest rhododendron, might still stand a chance.

Back in Delhi, I ration my burans juice intake; because I have just two bottles and I need them to last through the summer. It is a refreshing drink with a strong scent of rose water, which is used in the preparation of the concentrate. The one I bought has sugar mixed in, so between the sweetness and the scent of roses, I’m not sure what the burans really taste like. The shop keeper told me that the petals are sour but the sac has sweet nectar. I also know that for the people of Uttarakhand it is nature’s greatest gift - one that plays a central role in their everyday lives while also sustaining their forest's ecosystem.

A summer drink

Partners in crime at one of the many winding roads

Wild white roses

With my 'chaperone'