Bengaluru was once known as the Garden City with the famous Cubbon Park and Lal Bagh in the city centre, as well as beautiful neighbourhood parks, tree-lined roads, and wooded groves. Both native and exotic trees contributed to the once extensive green cover here. Many of the trees in Lal Bagh are of historical importance, as also the Dodda aalada mara (Big Banyan Tree), a 400-year-old banyan (Ficus benghalensis) situated in the city’s outskirts. We all know that a city’s heritage comprises monuments, statues of famous people, and outstanding architectural creations. But not many of us are aware that there is also a ‘living heritage’ to be considered - and old trees form a significant part of this.
There are many such valuable trees in and around the city waiting to be discovered, including the very neighbourhoods we live in. In this piece we will look at three such trees which, interestingly, are in three different places of worship. These may not be as famous as the trees in Lal Bagh, or the Big Banyan, but they have their own stories, with history, culture and sacred belief woven together.
A pine named after Captain Cook
The first of these trees is a Cook Pine (Araucarica columnaris) in St Andrews Church, Cubbon Road. No one knows exactly how old the tree is, but the church itself is steeped in history. It was built in the 1800s for the Scottish population in the city who felt the need for a kirk (church in Scottish) of their own. Inside the church we can still find historical treasures such as the pipe organ and the beautiful stained-glass window behind the altar. And outside, towards the front of the spire with the clock tower, stands the Cook Pine. The tree towers above all the other trees, its dark green leaves a striking contrast to the deep red facade of the church. There are several such Cook Pines in the city, especially in the core area, and these are often decorated during Christmas. But the height of the Cook Pine in the church is impressive, rivalled only perhaps by a few in Lal Bagh and Cubbon Park.
The Cook Pine, like the Scots, is not native to India; nor is it from Scotland. The species is native to New Caledonia, an archipelago situated in the Southwest Pacific Ocean. These islands were first introduced to the European world when Captain James Cook discovered them during his second voyage to the South Pole between 1772 and 1775. Accounts of the voyage mentioned how approaching the island, James Cook, and the father-son duo of naturalists on board, Johann Reinhold Forster and Georg Forster, had got into an argument about what the tall pillar-like structures they had seen could be. These “singular sort of trees”, as Cook described them, were the Cook Pines–the same species that today stands in St Andrews Church.
How and who first brought the species to India, or who planted the one in the St Andrew’s Church, are mysteries waiting to be solved. But for now, looking up at the towering tree, with the hum of traffic on Cubbon Road, we can be transported to its original home–an island with sunny beaches and the blue ocean around.
Shading a sacred shrine
The second of the trees is an Indian jujube or ber tree (Ziziphus mauritania) at the tomb of the Sufi saint Hazrath Muhib Shah Khadri. The saint, who was also a general in Tipu Sultan's army, attained martyrdom during the Third Anglo-Mysore War (1790-1792). The tomb was built at the site where he lost his life in battle, but the structure has no roof as his body was handed over to the relatives by the British without a head. Hence the saint is also referred to as Hazrath Besarwali Aulia (besar means headless). The tomb is situated in the middle of congested Cubbonpet in central Bengaluru and the ber tree stands next to it. According to an old lady who cleans the dargah and the caretaker of the shrine, an older and bigger tree stood at the same spot. The branches of this tree, they described, served as a sarana or cover for the roofless tomb. The original ber tree according to the lady had been here ever since she began working 40 years ago—though how it came to grow here remains unknown. Around six to seven years ago the tree fell down, and another started growing in the same place.
The tree, based on our conversation with visitors and the caretaker of the dargah, holds no specific sacred meaning. However, the devout who visit believe that the leaves have healing properties and special powers. People started plucking the leaves believing them to have medicinal value when added to bathwater, while others believed that this helped ward off the evil eye. The old lady said that both the tree that had fallen, and the new one in its place, bore fruit which worshippers at the dargah also eat. The ber tree may not be held sacred from the religious perspective, but what we found interesting was how it held different meanings for those who visit the shrine. For some, it is just a tree whose fruit can be eaten. For others it provides shade for a revered Sufi saint. And for still others it has healing properties.
An ancient trio of holy trees
The third tree, or in this case, set of three trees, is found in an ashwathkatte located in Nagarathpet in Central Bengaluru. Ashwathkattes are raised platforms with a combination of peepul (Ficus religiosa) and neem trees (Azadirachta indica)–usually two of the former and one of the latter. Kattes often have shrines dedicated to local deities and nagarkallus (snake stones) worshipped mainly by women as fertility symbols. Kattes are also social spaces–where locals congregate for a conversation, while vendors take advantage of the shade to sell their wares. Ashwathkattes are dotted across Bengaluru, and can be found along roads, sometimes even in the middle of a busy road serving as a divider; or tucked away in quieter neighbourhoods.
This ashwathkatte is easy to miss as it is between two buildings next to a rather narrow, but busy, road. It is a stone’s throw from the Shri Dharmaraya Swamy Temple, one of the oldest temples in the city dating back 800 years, and of significance for the Vahni Kula Kshatriyas who were horticulturists and agriculturists. This katte in Nagarathpet has two very large peepul trees, of considerable girth, and a large neem tree between the peepul. At the base of the trees are several nagarkallus of varying sizes with images of snakes chiselled, some simple and others with more intricate work. There are also a few small shrines dedicated to Lord Ganesha. Offerings of yellow and orange marigold flowers, and fresh vermillion smeared on the stones indicate that this is a katte frequented by many worshippers. In this congested and noisy road amidst the relentless flow of vehicles and people, looking up at the trees, with their leaves in different hues of green, provides a respite–even if it is a brief one.
Silent friends to humanity
Trees in crowded urban centres have a multitude of uses. From an ecological perspective, trees help settle dust and absorb noxious gases such as sulphur and nitrogen oxides that vehicles and industries emit. Trees help mitigate the impact of the urban heat island effect–which is the phenomenon where cities are warmer than surrounding areas, owing to the built-up concrete and glass infrastructure that absorbs heat. Canopies provide much-needed shade on hot days for vendors and pedestrians. In this time of climate change, trees play an important role by sequestering carbon. In addition, trees are historical, social and cultural artifacts through which urban residents connect to the city, providing a sense of belonging in what can otherwise be a stressful place to live.
In recent decades, especially since the 2000s, urbanisation has had an adverse impact on natural spaces in Bengaluru, including its green cover. Developing infrastructure, seen as imperative for a major metropolis that makes a significant contribution to the economy, has come at the cost of its trees. What we discovered in our tree quest was that even in a city like Bengaluru we can still stumble upon trees–each with a story of their own–just like the ones we have written about. There are many trees whose stories are waiting to be written. Be a part of this discovery and share the story of your special tree!
Acknowledgements
We would like to thank the members of St Andrews Church, and the Hazrath Muhib Shah Khadri dargah for sparing the time to talk to us. We also thank Anindita Adhikari and Arvind Lakshmisha for joining us on the visits, and for the engaging conversations that helped shape this piece.
References
- Gâteblé, G., Lannuzel, G., Liede-Schumann, S., Meve, U (2020) The flora of James Cook’s ‘Botany Isle’ (Îlot Améré) and the neighbouring islets of Kié and Nouaré (New Caledonia): revisited and re-evaluated after nearly 250 years. Muelleria: An Australian Journal of Botany, 39: 39-57.
- Nagendra, H. (2016) Nature in the City: Bengaluru in the Past, Present and Future. New Delhi: Oxford University Press.
- Nagendra, H., Mundoli, S. (2019) Cities and Canopies: Trees in Indian Cities. New Delhi: Penguin Viking.
- Website of HHS HMS complex. https://www.hhshmscomplex.com/index.html
- Website of St Andrews Church. https://standrewschurch.org.in/
Edited by Sheema Mookherjee
