Whither substance? Mythology 'outshines' botany at the Ahmedabad flower show

 

 The other day, I visited what is being billed as the Ahmedabad International Flower Show 2026, currently underway at the Sabarmati Riverfront Event Centre. This was my second visit to the Ahmedabad flower show. I went with my NRI friends, who remarked that the display this year was far superior to what they had seen when they visited Ahmedabad around the same time last year.

There is no doubt that the show is visually impressive. Organised around the theme Bharat Ek Gatha, it features massive floral sculptures and claims two new Guinness World Records. Bharat Ek Gatha seeks to depict what the organisers—officially the BJP-controlled Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation—present as India’s journey from ancient culture and heritage to modern achievements, using millions of flowers and plants.

But what exactly was showcased in the name of “ancient culture and heritage” through these millions of flowers? I found that the organisers could not think beyond India’s mythological roots: Samudra Manthan, Gita Saar, Govardhan Leela, Ganga Avataran, Ram Setu, and a 20-foot-tall statue of Lord Nataraja. Alongside these were dance forms such as Kuchipudi, Bhangra, Garba, and Kathakali, and festivals like Diwali, Holi, Onam, and Bihu.

Evidently, the organisers could not—or chose not to—acknowledge that India’s cultural heritage also rests on the town planning of the Harappan civilisation, on institutions like Nalanda and Takshashila, and on some of the most remarkable architectural sites in the world, several of which exist in Gujarat itself. There was no trace of the Buddha and his legacy, nor of the Bhakti and Sufi traditions.

It appeared that the organisers were more concerned with impressing Prime Minister Narendra Modi. Large posters of Modi’s visit to the 2024 flower show were displayed randomly across the venue. Equally prominent was the apparent obsession with securing Guinness World Records.

Two such records were highlighted. One was the world’s largest flower mandala, measuring 33.6 metres in diameter—a geometric pattern created using millions of fresh flowers and promoted as a central attraction of the National Unity Zone. The other was the world’s largest floral portrait of Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel, covering approximately 329 square metres, created to mark his 150th birth anniversary.

Sponsored by corporate giants like Adani and Ambani, and dotted with what were described as “modern-day global achievements”—high-speed rail, ISRO’s space technology, renewable energy, and supposed excellence in sports and education—the flower show failed in one fundamental respect: it refused to identify the flowers on display.

As I walked around, taking photographs as my NRI friends wished—much like the rest of the huge crowd—I noticed schoolchildren who had been brought to the show as part of an outing. This reminded me of the flower shows I saw as a child in the late 1950s or early 1960s, when my parents would take me to Rashtrapati Bhavan during winter. I vividly recall being curious about the flowers on display, and how the names of each flower—in Hindi, English, and with their botanical names—were clearly provided.

Out of curiosity, I later searched online to see whether Rashtrapati Bhavan still maintained this legacy. I was pleased to discover that it does. Each year, the flower display at what is now called Amrit Udyan (previously Mughal Gardens) includes names and detailed information about the flowers through various methods. This year’s show is scheduled to be open to the public from February 3 to March 31, 2026, and, like previous years, incorporates QR codes for plant identification.

Visitors can scan these codes using their mobile phones to access detailed information about each species, including its botanical name and description. Specific areas, such as the herbal garden, feature informative plaques next to plant beds indicating the name, origin, and medicinal benefits of each variety.

I wondered why Ahmedabad’s flower show—even while being rooted so heavily in Hindu mythology—could not learn to be educational for the large number of schoolchildren brought there. Or do the organisers believe there is no point in educating children about flowers themselves? Let them remain glued to myths displayed in the name of culture and heritage.

I did not discuss these thoughts with my NRI friends. I do not know what they made of it all. We ate good, inexpensive food at the fast-food stalls set up at the far end of the venue and, two hours later, left happily, enjoying the colourful lights that came on in the evening.