Ooty

July 27, 2007 Ootys thread flower garden

Speaking of art and illusion and handcrafted trees, I am reminded of our recent visit to Ootys thread flower garden. I had not heard of it until our son read about in a travel guide on Ooty and told us that it was certainly worth a visit. I dismissed it casually, assuming that it is one of those places that are given exaggerated mention to attract the undiscerning tourist. After my ludicrous attempt to row a boat on Ooty lake, we walked to the large rectangular shed-like room that housed the thread garden. Irrationally, I had imagined it would be outdoors and was completely unprepared for the unique indoor floral world that I was going to experience. The entry ticket was very reasonable Rs. 10, a little over the price of a milky syrupy cup of tea. The ticket for using the camera was Rs. 15. Foolishly, I left the camera at the counter. The man who issued our tickets did ask me rather surprised whether I really did not wish to take my camera inside. I was not expecting anything remarkable so I said I was sure I wouldnt need it. He looked at me, unconvinced. My son was happy. You have far too many pictures of flowers already. How many more before you stop? This is madness. It is beautiful madness, you must admit. No more taking pictures for now. I am just going to look at the flowers this time. As soon as we entered, I was dazzled by the profusion of colour and struck by the stillness of the verdant world. Soon a voice intruded jarringly. A man at the entrance began to explain the salient features of the garden in an elocution voice. He reeled the facts in a booming breathless declamatory tone. There was just the three of us. It seemed unnatural to talk to us as if he were addressing a large gathering of people. This is what I gathered from his lecture-like introduction to this singular artificial flower garden with its plants, creepers, vines, patches of grass and lotus ponds. Antony Joseph was its creator. It had taken 50 specially trained artists more than twelve years to complete this visual delight. Stiff pieces of cardboard were cut and shaped into leaves and flowers. These were then wound with thread meticulously and dexterously. Steel or copper wires were used for the stems, which were then wound with the appropriate colour of thread. No needle or mechanical aid was used. Nearly 400 shades of plain embroidery threads, 60 million meters long, were used to create150 different varieties of flowers. Within myself, I praised the meticulous workmanship, flawless patience and devotion to beauty of the artists. Walking along the railing, I took in this fairy-tale world of undiminished colour. I tried to identify the flowers that would neither fade nor wilt time would pass them by and visitors would marvel at this charming defiance of the imprints of the footsteps of time. Any moment I expected diminutive fairy tale creatures to trip nimbly among these flowers. Three more visitors entered the garden. The guides voice blared out the information and a Tamil song played loudly from a nearby shop. These auditory assailants ruined the atmosphere. I wish silence were a necessary fee for entry. I also wish the lighting could be improved to enhance the ambiance of this world. As I walked out, I saw samples of these flowers for sale. At the counter, encased in transparent plastic boxes, these flowers did not look life-like. They were bright and lovely a tribute to the artists patience and industry but unmistakably artificial. I selected a plant with three flowers - a flaming orange, a warm yellow and a jubilant red. I dont recognize the flowers (are they daisies?) but I brought back a handful of ageless colour into my home.