Every spring, over the last few years, Delhi comes ablaze with tulips of every colour. While these appear in many traffic roundabouts and city parks, the most impressive display is along Shanti Path in Chanakyapuri. Here the long boulevard is lined with tulips that are so stunning that there is always a little crowd gathered around photographing them from every angle.

I joined this crowd a couple of days ago, and was recounting how amazing the display was to a group of friends, and encouraging them to visit while they lasted (tulips have an amazingly short shelf life). While everyone else was open to the idea, one lady wasn’t at all impressed. “Tulips,” she snorted. “Why tulips? They are a foreign flower. This is not Amsterdam. This is Delhi. And we should be planting local flowers like marigolds!”
Marigolds? Well, okay. But did she know that marigolds were not native to India either? They are originally from Mexico and had been imported to India in the 16th century by Portuguese and Spanish traders.
Impossible, she said. The marigold was an Indian flower. They were an integral part of Hindu pujas and had been used to decorate temples since time immemorial. Yes, I countered, the marigold had become an integral part of our puja rituals over the years – but only since they were introduced to India in the 16th century.
{{/usCountry}}Impossible, she said. The marigold was an Indian flower. They were an integral part of Hindu pujas and had been used to decorate temples since time immemorial. Yes, I countered, the marigold had become an integral part of our puja rituals over the years – but only since they were introduced to India in the 16th century.
{{/usCountry}}It was only when I summoned up Google to substantiate my case, did she concede the point – though with very bad grace. The conversation then moved on to other less contentious topics but it left me wondering about how many things we regard as indigenous when they actually came to India from elsewhere a few centuries ago.
As a Punjabi, I grew up loving my rajma-chawal and makki di roti and sarson da saag combination, and regarded them as dishes of an ancient origin. Imagine my surprise when I grew up to find out that rajma was introduced to India (again from Mexico/Central America) in the 17th century. And that it only became a staple dish in the late 19th or early 20th century. The tomato that is integral to its taste was brought to India only in the 16th century; before that all Indians used things like tamarind and yoghurt as souring agents in dishes. Similarly, there was no makki di roti in ancient times. Corn was brought in from south America in the 16th century but it wasn’t until the 19th century that makki di roti became a staple of Punjabi cooking.
I am sure if I were to point out these inconvenient facts to proud Punjabis they would be up in arms about my dissing their ancient culinary tradition. But the fact is that even up until the end of the 18th century, rajma and makki di roti did not exist in this country. But that’s not to say that these things are not regarded as quintessentially Punjabi now.
In fact, that is how the world evolves. Things that came in from abroad are absorbed into the local culture so smoothly and seamlessly over time that they become Indian in due course. So, who knows, maybe 100 years down the line, the tulip will be regarded as an Indian flower as well – just as the marigold is today!