Trees form bonds that connect countries and civilisations, cultures and histories. Their seeds are carried by birds and bees, bats and flies, monkeys and man across continents and seas,they are the visible expressions of a living and vibrant ecosystem, nature in its crowning glory. At the India International Centre(IIC), a living heritage building, the story of the trees unfolds with particular richness. The IIC Tree walk was led by Kavita Prakash, Founder of Sausage Tree Nature Walks, a Dendrophile (tree-lover) and a keen, self-taught naturalist.
Within the carefully curated yet seemingly effortless landscape of the IIC bordering the Lodhi Gardens, species from different continents coexist, hinting at historic trade routes, botanical exchanges, and the layered histories of empire and ecology. In keeping with the long-nurtured cultural traditions of IIC, a tree walk through its grounds becomes more than a botanical exercise—it becomes a journey through time, tracing how seeds travelled with merchants, emperors, and colonists to take root in Delhi’s soil. Along one edge of the plot of the IIC runs Joseph Allen Stein Lane, named after the architect of the IIC, Ford Foundation, WWF, India Habitat Centre and several neighbouring buildings in what is sometimes referred to as Steinabad. Stein’s deep engagement with landscape is well known; he contributed significantly to the development of Lodhi Gardens alongside his friend and collaborator Garrett Eckbo.
The landscape of the India International Centre can, in many ways, b e seen as a microcosm—an arboretum of the larger plantation scheme of New Delhi envisioned by Edwin Lutyens and Herbert Baker. Several of the city’s iconic trees find representation here. In the walk, each tree revealed itself as a node in a larger network: a provider of shade and shelter, a host to pollinators, a perch for birds, and a silent witness to the changing city. Whether it is the Indian Grey hornbills feeding or the Brown headed barbet keeping a watchful eye or even the red naped Ibis or the black kite flying overhead, they all represent the vibrant ecosystem supporting them and many more.To walk among the trees was to realise that what appears still and rooted is, in fact, dynamic—alive with movement, memory, and connection.
The walk opened with one of the most striking specimens – the Sausage tree (Kigeliaafricana). As noted by Pradip Krishen in his seminal book Trees of Delhi, this species from tropical Africa was the only exotic tree among the thirteen selected to line the avenues of Lutyens’ New Delhi. Located near the Ford Foundation building, the tree spreads wide, its woody, sausage-shaped fruits hanging conspicuously from its branches that give the tree its name. The maroon flowers, delicately suspended from its branches, give it a striking presence. Although the fruit is inedible and its seeds poisonous, elephants in Africa feed on its leaves, and the fruit has traditional uses in treating skin ailments. We were then introduced to the Maulsari or Bakul (Mimusops Elengi), which was laden with fruit. Its olive-shaped berries are edible and used in making ittar, and several participants in the walk sampled their sour taste.
Native to the Western Ghats, the tree is also known for its small, intensely fragrant white flowers which will shortly flower in May. Its presence in many Mughal monuments across Delhi adds a distinct sensory dimension to those historic spaces. 006aThe olive shaped fruits of the Maulsari tree Next to the Maulsaristood the much-revered Peepal tree (Ficus religiosa), whose benign cultural image contrasted sharply with its ecological behaviour in this location. Here, its strangler tendency was on full display, the Peepal was strangling an Anjan tree. A seed, likely deposited by a bird or bat, had germinated in the fork of an Anjan tree (Hardwickia Binata). Over time, the peepal had sent down roots, enveloping its host and competing for light and nutrients. Its branches and roots now wrapped tightly around the Anjan were almost stifling it, even as the latter’s delicate twin leaflets seemed to persist in quiet resistance.
Nature is not gentle; it follows its own uncompromising logic. “Survival of the fittest” is not merely an adage but a reality unfolding before us—and perhaps one we must learn to respect. The next stop was a fruiting Kamrakh (Averrhoa carambola) tree in the Gandhi–King Plaza. Its familiar star-shaped, sour fruit—valued for its medicinal properties—hung alongside delicate lilac flowers. Despite its relatively young age, the young tree had an abundant harvest of fruit. We took a short break under the expansive canopy of the Pilkhan (Ficus virens), whose majestic shade offered respite from the summer sun. Its aerial roots, wrapped around the trunk, distinguish it from its relative, the banyan. After racutamary group photograph earth estately Saptaparni (Alstoniascholaris) in the lawns of the IIC, we moved toward the rose garden, where the Kanju tree (Holoptelea integrifolia), Delhi’s tallest native species, towered majestically. It was April, and the tree was fully loaded with fruit, its flat, papery, biscuit-coloured seed pods fluttering in the breeze. Also known as Churail Papri, it attracts bats and birds—especially parakeets. As these two very different inhabitants share the same tree, one wit likened it to an Airbnb—where one checks in as the other checks out. We then proceeded to The Gab tree (Diospyros malabarica). Only weeks earlier, it had displayed a dense crown of striking red new leaves.
Now, it bore fruits and flowers within a renewed, thick green canopy. Though not easily visible, the delicate fruits and flowers make a pretty picture. The walk also brought attention to a largely forgotten aspect of Delhi’s landscape—its water systems. Few today would recall that the city once had numerous water bodies and channels, many of which have disappeared under developmental pressures. As highlighted in a recent talk on the IIC and Lodhi Gardens, the Gardens were once prone to flooding due to obstruction of the natural water flow by new construction.This was because the ancient water system originally ran through the Lodhi gardens. The only remnant here is the foot overbridge at the Northern entrance from Subramaniam Bharti Marg called Athpullah. The Athpullah is part of an old water system which started at Hauz-i-Shamsi at Mehrauli and ended in the Barapullah. This hidden hydrological history became evident again in the presence of the Goolar (Ficus racemosa), a species associated with riparian conditions. Its presence signals the persistence of an underground water system.
The warty tubercles in the tree growing directly from the bark, were beginning to bear fruit. The planners of Delhi would do well to remember that, although the Yamuna has been reduced to a drain in the city, the unconfined aquifer beneath the city continues to flow—and this keystone ficus species stands as quiet proof of that hidden vitality. What endures below the surface, sustaining and renewing itself, offers a measure of reassurance. At the same time, the trees around us remain silent witnesses—reminding us of what has been lost even as they continue to endure, rooted and resilient, watching over the city.