On this hartal day, I have decided to take advantage of slow traffic to wander around Dhaka by bicycle. I am hoping for clouds, but when I step outside at 10am, the sun is blazing hot.

However, I am soon rewarded for my efforts. Summer's flowers are in full bloom in the city. Normally I don't have enough time to appreciate them. But today, as I bicycle to the Chandrima Udyan/Crescent Lake area, they face me in all their glory: krishnachura, minjir, sonalu, jarul and copper pod.

The house I grew up in Sylhet had a large krishnachura tree in the backyard. So I have a deep-rooted partiality towards this flower, which I find to be the most beautiful anywhere. The trees along Crescent Lake are awash in red. Some branches reach out over the lake, the flowers shimmering over water, competing for attention.

Just inside the park I see a minjir tree, which also blooms this time. The flower appears along the branches in profuse bunches. The central petal of each flower curves around like a hook, and its mix of white and yellow gives it a sweet, innocent appearance. If krishnachura reminds me of a soaring Beethoven symphony, minjir is a sublime Mozart concerto.

Also in the park is a sonalu tree, which, in comparison, yields a sparse flower. By that I mean the yellow flower does not grow in large bunches or fill up its entire space. The trick is to look at it from right underneath, for then it becomes a chandelier of many layers, each yellow bud replacing a light. Seen

thus, it is like a precisely beautiful Bach composition.

Jarul trees were also in the park. Its beauty comes in eye-catching bursts of purple like a Dvorak dance, full of crescendoes.

To photograph a jarul flower, I position myself carefully so there is no visual distraction in the background. I point my camera up at the flower. Just as I am about to press the shutter, something moves high up in the tree right behind. What, a monkey? Behind the jarul is a gigantic mango tree, with a few mangoes left. A young man has climbed to the topmost branches to shake out the remaining green mangoes. I worry if the branch will support his wait, but he shakes it merrily until his cohorts on the ground have gathered all they want.

Now I look around the park and see some people scattered. Three different cricket games are in full swing in the shade. A few couples sit on the grass, enjoying a picnic despite the heat.

Back on the road, I see several bicyclists riding. One stops by to chat. He is going to his office riding his new mountain bike. Turns out a new dealer has opened shop in Dhaka, selling high-end bicycles. This is good news: the number of serious bicyclists in Dhaka is increasing.

On this day, some of us were even competing with mad dogs and Englishmen for our place in the noonday sun!

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