Mar 29, 2013 Awake in Dream Time - Journal Entries about the almost real, the surreal and the unreal

Jamun — A Fictional Walk Through *Purple Prose

©By Vijaya Sundaram

(Written in India on Friday, July 16, 2010)

The bleeding, purple heart of the jamun fruit crushed under heedless footsteps colored the sidewalks of the streets, as I wandered aimlessly, endlessly, fruitlessly.

All I saw was desolation everywhere amidst the greenery — broken fruit, broken windows, cracked buildings, spit-covered walls. And yet, the fruit, the fruit … all that crushed purple bleeding profusely on the patient sidewalk!

I looked up. The trees, the flaming flowers of the flaming-flower tree (what the hell is it called, anyway?), the delicately blossomed perfumed flowers of the “night queen” tree, and the gigantic jack fruit trees swayed sensuously in the still air. Still air? Then, whence the swaying? A freak wind? I stood still, mouth agape, thoughts stilled. After a sigh (mine? the breeze?), I resumed my meandering.

(*Thanks, Oscar Wilde, for a phrase that has forever become a part of the English language.  Your “purple prose” always thrilled me!)

Tags: Fictional Walk, India, Jamun Fruit, Pune, Purple Prose