There are days that glide along without interruption, no outstanding
circumstances to distract you or unusual events to redirect the course
of your day. And then there are days that have the potential to birth
great narratives. Everything seems inspired. You sense that you are a
character in a much larger story and notice the other characters involved in their own meandering plots and become amazed at the infinite nature of it all.
Hannah and her parents invited me to accompany them to Bangalore’s City Market. The market covers about 4 city blocks and is a place where anything can be bought- locks, hand beaten steel pots, dosa pans, clothes, produce, embroidery goods, and raw material of all types for constructing whatever it is you need to make. It is a bustling city in its own right, located in the heart of Bangalore with stalls of goods nestled in a maze of economic potential. Locksmiths are seated next to other locksmiths. Sari shops are sandwiched between the shoes and jewelry stores to provide a full service shopping experience where anything desired can be found, with options to spare.
The flower market is an enigmatic place located in the basement of a building close to the entrance of the Avenue. We walked through the produce section watching vendors creatively stacked their goods for all to see. Bell peppers were arranged in small pyramids, guavas were cut like flowers so the red fruit glistened in the sun. Everything was presented with a touch of embellishment, hoping to catch your eye and invite you in to a sale. We walked up a set of stairs, only to go down to the basement of a large, square building with a windowed ceiling. Aisles and aisles of flower stalls wrapped around the basement, each with a few people threading freshly-cut flowers into garland. Yellows, whites, reds, peaches, purples, dark umbers- any color under the sun. And the interesting thing is it is a man’s job to string flowers, so the basement was filled with men sitting in the stalls, cross-legged on their platforms, wanting to know where we were from, offering us blossoms, and asking how beautiful the flowers are in comparison to our country. It was fabulous.
But the best part happened in the open floor in the middle of the building. Baskets of coiled garlands covered the floor, waiting to be sold. Stacks of yellows and whites and peaches. People hustled around, moving baskets in and out of the space. The baskets had a mound woven into the base, creating a perfect cap for placing on one’s head. It was magnificent to watch. We walked to the second floor of the building and overlooked the activity. So many people, so many stories. Where do these flowers come from? How do they get here? Where are they being taken once they have been sold? And this happens 7 days a week? It was an experience that opened my senses and awakened a wonder and sense of awe that was reminiscent of reading a good children’s storybook.
The rest of the day turned into a series of scavenger’s hunts. We were looking for raw silk for Wendy to weave. I bought some hand rolled incense to christen my apartment with. We met a friend who found a spectacular bead store to make jewelry from. It was an amazing day that ended with a visit to the Mavelli Tiffin Room, a food institution in Bangalore, and a walk through Lalbagh Gardens to see a horticultural history of trees that had been gifted to the prince. It was a day that will stay with me for a while. Inspiring, serendipitous and amazingly beautiful.
I went to an underground city filled with flowers. You may have to look hard to find it, but it is there, waiting for you to enter, and something is always happening.
Hannah and her parents invited me to accompany them to Bangalore’s City Market. The market covers about 4 city blocks and is a place where anything can be bought- locks, hand beaten steel pots, dosa pans, clothes, produce, embroidery goods, and raw material of all types for constructing whatever it is you need to make. It is a bustling city in its own right, located in the heart of Bangalore with stalls of goods nestled in a maze of economic potential. Locksmiths are seated next to other locksmiths. Sari shops are sandwiched between the shoes and jewelry stores to provide a full service shopping experience where anything desired can be found, with options to spare.
The flower market is an enigmatic place located in the basement of a building close to the entrance of the Avenue. We walked through the produce section watching vendors creatively stacked their goods for all to see. Bell peppers were arranged in small pyramids, guavas were cut like flowers so the red fruit glistened in the sun. Everything was presented with a touch of embellishment, hoping to catch your eye and invite you in to a sale. We walked up a set of stairs, only to go down to the basement of a large, square building with a windowed ceiling. Aisles and aisles of flower stalls wrapped around the basement, each with a few people threading freshly-cut flowers into garland. Yellows, whites, reds, peaches, purples, dark umbers- any color under the sun. And the interesting thing is it is a man’s job to string flowers, so the basement was filled with men sitting in the stalls, cross-legged on their platforms, wanting to know where we were from, offering us blossoms, and asking how beautiful the flowers are in comparison to our country. It was fabulous.
But the best part happened in the open floor in the middle of the building. Baskets of coiled garlands covered the floor, waiting to be sold. Stacks of yellows and whites and peaches. People hustled around, moving baskets in and out of the space. The baskets had a mound woven into the base, creating a perfect cap for placing on one’s head. It was magnificent to watch. We walked to the second floor of the building and overlooked the activity. So many people, so many stories. Where do these flowers come from? How do they get here? Where are they being taken once they have been sold? And this happens 7 days a week? It was an experience that opened my senses and awakened a wonder and sense of awe that was reminiscent of reading a good children’s storybook.
The rest of the day turned into a series of scavenger’s hunts. We were looking for raw silk for Wendy to weave. I bought some hand rolled incense to christen my apartment with. We met a friend who found a spectacular bead store to make jewelry from. It was an amazing day that ended with a visit to the Mavelli Tiffin Room, a food institution in Bangalore, and a walk through Lalbagh Gardens to see a horticultural history of trees that had been gifted to the prince. It was a day that will stay with me for a while. Inspiring, serendipitous and amazingly beautiful.
I went to an underground city filled with flowers. You may have to look hard to find it, but it is there, waiting for you to enter, and something is always happening.
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