Where Have all the Flowers Gone?

(This was published in BLink on 19 April 2014)

(The trailer of a documentary about Colony Collapse Disorder that is causing bees to die en masse in different parts of the world)

I moved from Delhi to Bangalore last April. This month has had different associations in all the cities I have lived in. From the delicious coolness of the blustering norwesters or the Kal Boishakhis of Calcutta to the abundance of flowers in the spring-summer warmth of Delhi. And then there was the sudden heatwave of Bangalore. The famed good weather seemed to be a myth in my early days in the city as blazing sunny days were followed by occasionally cool evenings punctuated by a few drops of rain and the constant drone of bees. The bees became my markers for summer and for my new abode in the city.

However, even before I could muster together home remedies that might work in case of a sudden sting or dream about the batches of fresh honey that one could get from the hive when the collectors arrived, tragedy loomed large. Affected by a distressing global phenomenon, these bees weaved their way drunkenly into mine and the 40 odd apartments within a 20 feet radius of their hives. Like malfunctioning robots they would collide with doors, windows and neon tube lights and die in a rather anticlimactic end for this industrious creature. These sad suicidal insects made their way into my house in hordes every evening, only to collapse to the floor in their death throes. Further research revealed that the slow depreciation of trees in the erstwhile garden city had given rise to this malaise. Affected by deforestation and increasing pollution, the energetic honey bees were slowly starving to death. And Bangalore is just another point on the map of the world where this phenomenon called Colony Collapse Disorder or CCD is becoming increasingly common. There just aren’t enough flowers left to feed the bees and our cities do not provide kind homes for these winged pollinators. Instead of natural perfumes, they are subject to the fumes of factories, mosquito fogging machines, the excessive pollution on the city roads. This is just another sign of a barren future straight out of dystopian novels that looms large. This also brings to mind the apocryphal quote by Einstein, “If the bee disappears from the surface of the earth, man would have no more than four years to live.” 

As much damage as the loss of bees would do to the ecological balance, honey disappearing from the world would also be an equally irreplaceable loss to culinary larders, medicinal cabinets and cosmetic remedies as well as mythology, history and language itself. 

H-O-N-E-Y: the very word drips with a dulcet melody. A perfect choice as a term of endearment for loved ones, the word is a metaphor for sweetness in both real and abstract terms. Many aeons before sugar, there was honey. The same rich golden bottled goodness that sits pretty in our larder today in its myriad organic, mass produced and single origin forms has been around for millennia. Represented in ancient cave paintings as well as prehistoric Egyptian, Mesopotemian and Indian texts, early man was quick to learn the culinary as well as medicinal benefits of this natural ingredient and used it liberally in his daily life. Regarded as the mythical elixir of immortality as well as a good omen that would find a place in temples and tombs alike, honey is often referred to as the food of the gods and even finds resonance in our own culture with close kinship to the fabled amrita that emerged from the churning of the Ocean of Milk. 

As I broomed away a pile of corpses on yet another morning, my heart filled with sadness and I decided to appease the gods by bringing out as many potted flowering plants as I could fit in my little balcony in order to offer some recompense for my kind. I also decided to pen this little obituary as well as celebrate the lives of these little worker bees. And what better eulogy than a feast? And it seemed befitting as the byproduct of their industry was a superfood that made our world a sweeter place. And so it seemed apt to adopt a diet where everything I ate and cooked was marinated in, flavoured with, drizzled upon and doused in golden honey. This special ingredient added that extra zing in my Sunday roast where the whole spices and root vegetables soaked up its sweetness and came together in a perfect medley of flavours. Honey, bananas and ice cream brought alive visions of homemade banana splits and childhood evenings long past. I replaced tea with my grandmother’s magic brew, hot water, honey with a dash of ginger, lemon and whole pepper that had held its own against heaving chests and wintry congestions over the years. I would dribble honey down a stack of freshly made pancakes for breakfast and be transported back to simpler days when happiness was all about devouring these honeyed goodies accompanied by cups of fragrant Darjeeling tea and great conversations. I layered food memories with kitchen experiments as I tried to add a little more honey in my life. Some worked, some didn’t and through it all the bees buzzed around me alive for a fleeting moment in the light.