It is three in the morning. And Malaramma has already been up for an hour deftly knotting jasmines into long white garlands and adding them to the pile in her cane basket. The heady smell fills her dingy, one-room house near the railway tracks of Okalipuram, as she ties the final knot and prepares a meal of rice and lentils for her only son who will get up later and head to work at a construction site nearby.
The 46-year-old widow gets ready, puts the flower basket on her head and walks towards City Market. With dawn approaching, she joins the several dozens of flower vendors around the red and white building of K.R. Market (Krishna Rajendra Market) and prepares for business.
“I’ve always loved flowers,” says Malaramma, whose name, serendipitously means flower in Tamil.
“As a child, I remember my mother would deck my hair with jasmine flowers and dress me up in my grandest clothes on any occasion. A visit to our village temple near Tiruchirappalli to offer flowers to the deity was a regular affair. I remember being surrounded by flowers. Those memories have never faded even after all these years that I’ve moved to Bengaluru.”
Shooing away an inquisitive cow, she takes a break from her narrative to serve an early bird customer who refers to her by name and promptly packs a couple of garlands in his jute bag.
“It is a business and a livelihood at the end of the day. My son and I earn enough to make ends meet. He will soon marry and set out to make his own life on his own terms. I will continue to make flower garlands as long as I have strength. I have no complaints with life,” a cheerful Malaramma points out.
“I’m content with what I make and I find simple joys in seeing a smile on a customer’s face when they smell the jasmine flowers. That’ll do,” she tells me with an infectious smile.
Around her, the market area hustles and bustles with activity and the many-hued blooms of marigolds, roses, daisies, orchids and jasmines attract the teeming masses.
I make my way to one of the customers. Preetham Samuel, a stationary dealer who sponsors flowers for his church, heads to the flower mart early every Sunday morning.
“There is something very alluring about being surrounded by flowers. It is almost magical. The cool morning air, the fragrance of flowers, the sun peeking in the horizon with its rays streaming through the buildings and the city waking up to yet another busy day – it is truly a very Bengaluru experience at KR Market in the mornings.”
I catch British national Gary Simmons, an IT consultant who goes around the city with his camera every weekend during his three-month stay each year in Bengaluru, taking a few snaps of the flower vendors. He tells me the sights and smells of the old Bengaluru marketplace is unique and exclusive to the city.
“There’s nothing quite like it anywhere else in the country. People tell me this place used to be a battlefield in the 1790s. It is amazing how this has transformed to be one of the largest flower markets in Asia. There is so much history amid the beauty of the flowers here. And while I have to brave the huge crowds thronging this place whenever I visit, it is still worth every visit. I love taking back pictures of the flowers and talking about the place wherever I go.”
Malaramma beckons me when I pass her by again, wraps an arm length of jasmine flowers in a betel leaf and offers it to me to take home as a gift to my mother. Thanking her profusely, I insist on paying and she reluctantly accepts.
“At the end of the day, the flowers will fade but a little bit of goodness and kindness will last a lifetime. God has being good to me and I’m happy with my simple life. Whether business is good or bad, we all struggle in life and I believe in making a small difference in my customers’ lives with a smile. It goes a long way,” Malaramma sums up.
I return home, with a small bundle of flowers in my hand, and a sense of fulfilment in my heart having met a difference maker in the most unexpected quarters of the city. Truly, Bengalureans never fail to amaze with their spirit.
