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Silk cotton tree -
You march into town
With your entourage,
In a flaming crown -
Stately, head high above rooftops
Along avenues, driveways- perfect carriage;
I hang over my balcony
Smitten by your vigour, dynamic persona, chi,
O, I feel surge of hormones;
I blush,
Am flushed,
You march past, placid -
Your
Sideways glance, strength,
Quietly reassuring!
How I envy
Bees, squirrels, parakeets
As they feed on sweet nectar in your chalice;
O silk cotton tree,
You make me feel like a woman
Safe in this town;
I know, all winter, you too grieved,
Shed your foliage
As women marched in protest,
Against Damini’s unnatural death,
At the hands of rowdy gangs
Who stalk, brazenly
Looking out for soft targets,
To unleash their mental abrasions
In a frenzy of madness!
You bring message of hope,
Silently marching through the town
Keeping your promise of spring!
I rest easy on my bed
A soft pillow filled with semal, under my weary head
Secure, snug, with faith in place
For now, am no longer afraid
To step out, for you have made
Your presence felt.
Am sure the message has gone home
For those it was meant.
O silk cotton tree,
You make me proud to be a woman
In charge of my life -
Renewal of faith!
Semal plays out the poetry of seasons extravagantly. Its leaves start falling in January. In February, it is bare. By March, new leaves appear. Scarlet flowers follow the next month. Squirrels feed on them. In May, fruits – sort of woody capsules – ripen and split open to release masses of silky fibres that are collected to stuff pillows and quilts gives cotton.
The light, buoyant, soft, strong, elastic, resistant, water repellent floss from the Indian silk cotton tree is used for stuffing cushions and pillows, upholstery, wadded cloth quilts and also as insulating materials for refrigerators and as packing. |
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