Queen of all queens

The story behind the Kadupul which appeared in Lassana Sri Lanka last week:

by Aditha Dissanayake

In the end it seemed worth it, tracking down Sunil Atugoda, who had sent four pictures of the Kadupul to the Sunday Observer, to be published in Lassana Sri Lanka.

The flower, known as Queen of the night (even though there are other flowers too claiming the same name) is hardly ever seen by those who rarely venture out into the dark in the dead of the night. For, this glorious, fragrant flower blooms only at night and is half withered by the time the sun rises.

True to the words of Brooks Atkinson, who said "the virtue of the camera is not the power it has to transform the photographer into an artist, but the impulse it gives him to keep on looking - and looking." Sunil Atugoda, in spite of his busy professional life, as the Director of English at the National Institute of Education, Maharagama, says he spent many a sleepless night gazing at the unopened bud, worried that he would miss capturing the flower in full bloom if he had a full night's sleep.

"The plant was in front of my bedroom and I used to keep a torch beside my bed, and check on it several times in the night because I was afraid I would miss it when it started to open its petals".

He explains that he had almost missed seeing the plant, growing on a mango tree in his garden if not for his eldest son who had brought his attention to the green coloured, unopened bud.

"The bud may have been there for some time, but we noticed it about a week before it bloomed, and every day we kept an eye on it, especially during midnight to see when it would bloom," explains Sunil.

Sunil gives credit to his eldest son, who he says is very observant about natural phenomena, and keeps an eye on the birds and the plants around the house, and points them out to him to be photographed. But, like all photographers he says he does not let his son touch any of his equipment.

His excuse, "No photographer likes to part with his precious camera because the camera is a part of himself. Every photographer is ready to protect his camera with his life!".

Going back to his story, Sunil says the Kadupul had been on the mango tree in his garden right under their noses even though they had not noticed it for quite a long time. "Due to our busy lives we did not notice it even though we had been walking quite underneath it everyday" explains Sunil.

"This happens to many Sri Lankans. Many things in our lives, especially things which could give us immense pleasure, go unnoticed because we are too busy, wrapped up in our work, education etc.".

His pictures are visible evidence of the therapeutic effect flowers can have on us. Flowers, especially like the Kadupul which blossom only in the dead of the night, have the power to lift your spirits. If you take a deep breath, your stress will dissolve in its sweet fragrance.

But for Sunil on that memorable night, there was hardly any time even to breathe.

The drama had begun on the morning of August, 11th when the bud did a 90 degree turn from its original position (all photos were taken at the same camera position as the flower was reachable only from this position which has made the photos show how the stem changed its direction) and the colour of the bud which had been sort of green changed to that of purple.

"This was seen in the morning of the day it blossomed. But we still did not know when the petals would open. Because the normal belief is that the Kadupul blooms at midnight, we had been checking it around 11 or 12 pm all these days." recalls Sunil.

He had reminded himself that, like on all the other days, he would do the same on this night too. But his son had checked on the bud around 9 pm and called him saying that the flower had started to bloom. "This was when I took the first photo.

The time noted on my digital camera was 9.37 p.m. As my camera allows instant replay I saw that the flash had reflected the white of the petals making the picture become one white blotch. It was then that my son had a bright idea.

He suggested we should photograph the flower using a torch light. These had to be instant decisions as time was running out for, within a few minutes, the flower was going to open out to reach its zenith.

To make matters worse, the flower was above our heads at an awkward position, which did not allow clear focusing." Sunil says his photographic senses had suggested that he should use two torches so that shadows will be minimized and an 'even- kind' of lighting. And while he photographed, his son had had to cope with the task of holding the torches so that the lights fell evenly illuminating all the petals. If he missed his target some of the petals would be in darkness.

"At one time the petals were even touching the lens" recalls Sunil. And then there were the times when the lens got in the way of the lights and the shadow of the lens fell on the flower. There was also the problem of using lights with a lower K degree, changing the hue and making the photo more yellow as the white balance had also to be addressed in this case".

By 9.56 p.m, the flower had blossomed completely and by around 11 p.m it had gone past its zenith and the petals had begun to wither disproving the belief that the Kadupul blooms at midnight. The final shot was taken in the morning after the flower had withered.

According to Sunil the Kadupul is said to depict life according to Buddhist philosophy, as it shows the three stages of life within a matter of a few hours, symbolising the vulnerability of life; that life is short and should be lived in a worthwhile manner.

Called selenicereus grandiflours by scientists, it is said that the genus derives its name from the Greek selene (moon) which is in reference to their night flowering habit. Staring at the beautiful white petals, like the long, flowing skirt of a queen Grandiflours seems indeed the best epithet for this queen of all the queens of the night.

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