Skip to main content

Water Lilies and Lotuses


Beating its wings about truculently, a bee, swathed in gold, landed on the broad lotus leaves. A lonely young man, leaning his head into the ground, pelted a stone into the water; it brushed the surface of the water twice and dropped to the floor. Now the pond grew deep wrinkles of crimson gold shine that undulated from the centre to the exteriors. On the lotus palms, massive droplets of water, disturbed by the rapidity with which the pond’s surface aged, amorphously splat and coalesced with no order. Water rose up in waves, cheeked the rocks of the sidewall housing the pond and receded spasmodically

Clawing the bed of porous pollen grains with the assemblage of bright pink petals witnessing, the bee dug its stinger into the flower’s ovaries. Gagged by the mesmerising scent of the flower, he drank guilelessly, volubly, heart fully, and retreated. Once in air, the flight amused him; he buzzed and wheezed about; the whiff of cold morning air had stung him; over the bank and under the tree, he flew uplifted with a sudden jubilation. Beneath the surface, through the tapered stalks that propped flowers on the surface, retreated a strange resinous liquid. On the bed of slippery rocks and mushy undergrowth, between the sticky mud puddles and shiny rock crevices, lotus plants revelled in dominance. Their roots were clutched together; the network of lotus plants revelled in the making of resinous fluid which was deceptively mixed in right proportions in the nectar. From the storehouse of ovaries, the mixture was administered to bees.

A common man often confused Lotus with water lilies. Lotus, with its seed pod in the middle, broad curved petals that dropped onto themselves on the periphery made an exquisite whorl; on the contrary, a water lily’s petals stood erect, their hardened buds were seen as an offense. The lotus network surreptitiously scuttled the floor of the shallow pond; in the furrows of the bed they settled, and rose up like turrets of battleships.

The bee batted its eyelids vigorously, its fanciful flight ended with a swoop onto the lily by the rocky wall guarding the pool to one side. Water slapped the rocky faces; through the crevices, regurgitated voluminously, leaving a splashy watermark on the rocky walls. In the silence between the waves, the watchful bee descended onto the lily, infecting it with the resinous pollen. Over the days, a strange transformation took place in the pond; the arched tip of the drooling trunk from the bank overlooked lilies that shrunk in size, their stems withered, flowers paled, leaves punctured and the whole died.

Liles came in a multitude of colours whereas the lotus flowers in nature, occurred in hues of pink and white only. Bees in the pond were beguiled by the scintillating aroma of lotus; carried unawares, the vicious nectar that induced hallucinogenic reactions in the bee. It worked as an aphrodisiac that created in the bees’ minds, lustful visions of the lilies. Many years later, botanists who were confounded by the strange seduction lilies had on bees, would name them Nymphaeaceae, after the super natural feminine creatures.

Liles and Lotuses never came to terms with each other. Lilies died one after another, leaving behind a pond full of lifeless and leafless floaters. A certain lineage of green bacteria evolved to feed on the dying lilies; as the cells in lilies’ leaves were shut down abruptly, residue of photosynthetic products that were locked in dead twigs and leaves were now available for the green bacteria. In an attempt to sink into the ground, in the form of reverse osmosis, photosynthetic products were locked from leaves to the roots in isolated chunks. Soon, green bacteria multiplied in the pond, they gorged heavily on the dead lilies. Irresolute Lilies stayed afloat, bathed in the shower of sun for one last time before disintegrating into the many guts of green bacteria

Lilies were uncoordinated, they lived in solitude unlike the lotuses which planned and pre-empted a successful manoeuvre to oust the lilies off the pond. The artillery of lotuses was unmatched; it came as a product of years of coordinated effort that involved bodily fluids of one and all. Through selective, incremental and gradual concerted effort, they militarily pursued to build the ultimate weapon – hallucinogenic nectar.

Liles- white, yellow, violet, mauve, purple and pink occurred heterogeneously throughout the pond. Each sting of the bee resulted in a ghastly sudden death of the lily. In about two days, the lily died leaving behind fodder for the green bacteria. Then, slowly, the bereaved and devastated lilies observed a pattern. If a group of similar coloured lilies occurred in conjunction, they were mysteriously spared by the bees. The hallucinogenic reaction, as lilies found out, was inhibited by homogenous colouring of lilies. Years later, lilies, gradually evolved into countering the bizarre nectar by huddling together in similar colours.

With lesser deaths, green bacteria found it difficult to survive on residual packets of photosynthetic products. Their colonies crashed to abysmally low numbers. Meanwhile, the lilies were working to methodically install their network on the pond’s floor. Relentlessly working through the time lapses (caused by weather) and anatomical differences (between the different families of the genus ‘Nymphaeaceae’), they established their networks. Differences between the families had to be ironed out, some of the lilies (mauve and crimson) claimed pristine statuses and won’t cooperate to participate in the wide networking. Eventually, after promises were made to proportionally redistribute the acquired land (presently occupied by lotuses), all the lily families budged.

Liles planned a blitzkrieg, an assault that they would take back to the heart of lotuses. A pact was drawn with the surviving members of the green bacteria; they were to be allowed to feed on germinating pollen of lilies. Lilies ingeniously conned the bees into carrying green bacteria in place of pollen; lilies had found out, after a judicious analysis of the bacterial habits, a special liking to the resinous nectar and its induced constituents. Once introduced, the bacteria wasted no time on its way to empty the resinous nectar off the lotuses. The impeccable network that lotuses built underground laboriously over the years, worked against their favour; it aided bacteria to multiply, live and feed within the network. In the absence of harsh weather conditions or outside disturbances, the mission was accomplished in about four months. The lotuses were empty of nectar; it was too short a time for them to evolve or counter the bacteria.

At the end, Lotuses were alive but emptied of nectar. The bees ceased visiting them and two summers later, there were no lotuses in the pond. Green bacteria relished the feast of dead lotuses, but it was short lived, for soon there were too many mouths to feed and too short to feed on. A mutual agreement with lilies never recurred. They perished too.

Lilies lived on; the distribution of acquired land was acrimonious and strained the relationships between lilies. Their network which was fuelled by the inevitability of the war with lotuses, now showed signs of distress and fragility. And the days passed.

Comments

Lohi said…
You are referring to the current political issue of our state,
right??

Popular posts from this blog

Burlusque travesty of Individuality

The things that I have come to own up as mine have all lined up and together, they form a perpetual order of affiliation dragging me towards them. Unwholesome as I am, I subconsciously acquiesce to the ordered death of my personality. The charm is lost; the feathers of gravity that pin me down to an individual are broken, now I am not fixated to the ground. Now I am free, to wander aimlessly, to forget for the rest of the time that I have ever lived so close to the purpose that the vicinity scarred me, left me lacerated. Angered I was, extensively exposed to the cruelty of the impulses. So, I broke the tethers, and I am now aimless, far away from the pillars of impulse and instincts. Far away from the individual that I once was, today, afloat in air, I recall my days and whine suspiciously if my days of glory can ever be recovered. My surroundings are effusive, vibrant and demanding. I relish in the comfort of timelessness, today, I have stooped so low that I am unable to differentiate...

Ground control to Major Wolf…

Major wolf prodded his clawed grimy nail into the console and regally laid back on his plush leather lounge. He lifted himself a little for the leather made a chugging noise as he slid on it. The overhead panel made a noise that was akin to what you hear issuing from a tap (back on planet earth) before water makes its long journey through the pipes and burbles out in the vent. The hot-iron red of the panel glow bothered major so he held his hand up. But this was not going to work. So he reached for the console and pinched a knob clockwise. The red light dimmed and now the inside of his cockpit had the look of a womb so much so that major wolf went to sleep right away. A crackle woke him up. What was it? He looked about him. Major wolf was not the type you woke up in the middle of a dream. He noticed the green agleam on the speaker so he roused himself from the leather lounge and paddled in a daze toward the crackle and making a good fist, thumped on the instrument. The crac...

Mind's Enigma

As I type these words, I am acutely aware of a thought process running on a parallel track, non coincidental, but not mutually exclusive. I take a brief pause and give way to a certain depth of philosophical musing. At once vague, misinformed and undisciplined thoughts rush into the mouth of my mind’s sphere, the sphere of capacity my mind possesses. My mind picks up “indiscriminately”, and flips the thread of thought upside down, sideways, runs its memory coils over the infinitesimally small width and across the full range of the harrowingly obscure length of the thread of thought. While this is happening, momentum shifts, it happens so fast, that my sphere of mind is choked to death with the ubiquitous energized threads of thoughts blistering from the abyss, or is it the deeper stores of stacked membranes of mind. The beautiful and at once thrilling experience of pondering over the mind's activity by me (the mind) puts me an awkward position of looking at myself from the inside. ...