Nostalgia has a different constitution for every individual. To me, nostalgia is scent of the past. Our heart’s memory is designed to loose trace of bad and remember the good and thank god for that! Nostalgia for me is the desire to revisit the by-gone moments laced with the pain of being unable to do so. There are objects, frames, people or scents that take me on a mental time travel to the past. Few of my designs are inspired by the longing for the events, things and people from the buried moments that I can only romanticize without a promise of reality. Many of my readers are from a different time altogether and will not be able to dig into the same past. I am offering them an emotional state of Anemoia. Anemoia is defined by urban dictionary as ‘nostalgia for time you’ve never known.
The house where I spend my childhood and young adolescence stands strong right opposite a pretty park (at least pretty it was then). My first introduction to blessed nature and her bounty of flora was in that park. There stood tall and flowering, a Shiuli tree. The tree was the first herald of autumn and all autumnal feelings. Parijat is another name for the shy and sensitive Shiuli. Right by this Shiuli tree is a minikin temple. The God of small and big things was showered upon by these dainty droppings of white and orange. The compact courtyard dressed in its seasonal carpet of Parijat flowers looked and smelled extraordinary in the otherwise simple scheme of a suburban park. I was a very drowsy jogger in this park and these were few of those many things I did completely against my will – early morning runs. I envied the young kids puttering around the circumference of the temple, collecting these Shiuli flowers in the folds of their frocks. They made delicate wreaths and crowns and amulets and bracelets of shiuli. I was closely watched by a very strict father; The Shiuli and I had no time together other than drawing in her seductive scent.
The flower is a tiny one with four to five delicate white petals with a coral orange stem and center. It is one of the 8 divine flowers, favorite of the Hindu Gods. According to Hindu mythology, this tree came out as a result of churning of the ocean by the Gods and Demons. So it is believed the flower is rooted in heaven. The soft night Jasmines or Shiuli are shy night blooms only. With the first rays of the sun they mysteriously shed their delicate flowers on your path as swirls of floral fragrance fills the sky with that heady nostalgic feeling of festivities and home coming.
I grew up in Kolkata, India and come autumn meant Durga Puja (the queen of all festivals in Eastern part of the country). The bloom of the first bundle of Shiuli flowers meant the dhak dhol (the drum beats) and celebration of Durga Puja is not far away.
The short lived sweetness of the Parijat flower reminds us of the transient nature of life; to embrace the present with our hearts. Shiuli flowers have inspired writers and artists all the time. Here is a poetry I like very much and about this flower.
I Cannot Remember My Mother by Rabindranath Tagore
I cannot remember my mother
Only sometimes in the midst of my play
A tune seems to hover over my playthings,
The tune of some song that she used to
Hum while rocking my cradle.
I cannot remember my mother
Only sometimes in the midst of my play
A tune seems to hover over my playthings,
The tune of some song that she used to
Hum while rocking my cradle.
I cannot remember my mother
But when in the early autumn morning
The smell of the Shiuli flowers floats in the air
The scent of the morning service in the temple
Comes to me as the scent of my mother.
I cannot remember my mother
Only when from my bedroom window I send
My eyes into the blue of the distant sky,
I feel that the stillness of
my mother’s gaze on my face
Has spread all over the sky.
My collection- Reminiscent of Shiuli is inspired by these delicate beauties. The flowers are screen printed on soft organic cotton. I have chosen organic cotton for its very earthy and soft feel. These Shiuli sarees hug like the warmth of your childhood memories.
Reminiscent of Shiuli gracefully transports readers into a world of nostalgia and beauty, weaving poignant tales that resonate deeply. An evocative journey through memory, love, and the essence of life.