A Sunday Winter Afternoon

It was around end of the February. The intensity of the cold had abated and every where in the city all types of flowers were blooming, announcing the arrival of the spring season. When I got up in the morning, I heard the pleasant news from my Dad to have our lunch at Nirulas in Connaught Place and then would visit the Mughal Gardens at the Rashtrapati Bhawan.

The Mughals were very fond of well-laid parks and gardens of flowers, especially of the roses. The great emperor of the Mughal, Akbar was so fond of this flower that he always kept smelling it and kept it on his person. Based on this spirit of Mughal gardens, one such type of garden was brought up in the Rashtrapati Bhawan Complex, and they are aptly named—The Mughal Gardens.

When we reached inside after clearing the check-post, I was thrilled. These gardens are open to the general public only for one month in the spring season during February-March every year. I felt I was in a fairyland with flowers blooming in their full glory. There was a riot of colours. The soft short and thick grass there gives the impression of a green carpet. I was wonder struck to see almost 150 varieties of the roses. Just imagine a shade and you have a rose of that shade before your eyes! I could not help reciting the lines in Persian: “If there is a heaven on earth, it is here, it is here, it is here!”