One day I went to visit a relative. At their house I saw a few children playing with what looked like Gems chocolates, the little sugar-coated chocolate buttons. My own childhood had passed eating those. Red, blue, yellow, green, orange, they came in almost every colour of the rainbow. It amused me that village children play with chocolates, and it annoyed me a little too, because you do not play with food.
Then something struck me as odd. Every one of them was red. Not a single other colour. Curiosity got the better of me, so I went closer and saw that they were not quite Gems, but something else. I asked where they had found them, and they told me the things lie under a tree. I asked for one. They would not part with a single piece. Why would anyone hand over a favourite plaything to a stranger? Fine, keep them, but at least tell me where the tree is. That got me nowhere either.
In those days I did not think much about plants, so the matter did not pull at me, and I went home. But I understood one thing that day. If you had to name the most inspiring thing in this world, it would be plants. Our own thinking is only an imitation of them.
Meeting them again at the far end of the garden
Years later, at university, I was wandering at the far end of our department garden when those old days came back to me, because there they were again, the same little red things. I picked one up and realised they were seeds. Beautifully round, a brilliant glossy red. I gathered a good handful and started looking around for the tree they had fallen from. One tree caught my eye, tall but heavily branched. I did not know it. Still, if I had found it in the garden, I was sure I would learn its name.
And I did. It was the roktochandan (Adenanthera pavonina), a member of the family Fabaceae. Once you have the name, everything else follows; the name is all you really need. It is native to China, Malaysia and South India, though it is now found in many other countries. It has plenty of English names, but there is one I will never forget: mutual love bean. In our neighbouring country China these deep red seeds are a symbol of love. We have the red rose, and they have the roktochandan seed.
Gathering seeds in the middle of the road
That reminds me of something that happened last month. My brother Zaman and I were walking home from the university along our usual road when I spotted some roktochandan seeds lying on the ground. I had lost the seeds I collected earlier, so I sat down right there and started picking them up. I could not gather many because I was getting in the way of people trying to pass. Zaman was quite annoyed at me for plonking myself down in the middle of the road like that. If he could have, he would have left me there.
I did enjoy watching how predictable people are, though. Seeing me at it, a few passers-by picked up one or two seeds themselves and then asked what they were and what they were good for. I introduced the seeds to quite a few people that day. Some, once they knew, took theirs home. Others, perhaps none the wiser, handed them to me and walked on. Then it struck me: where had these seeds come from? I did not remember ever seeing them on this road. Right beside us, on top of a shop, lay an enormous roktochandan tree that had been cut down. Looking at that strikingly red wood, another of its English names came to mind, red bead tree. The name has nothing to do with the wood, though; it comes from these bead-like red seeds. I broke off a twig and found it very hard.
By now Zaman had had enough. Are you done, or shall I go home alone? So I walked home with him, but my eyes kept going back to the seeds in my hand. They were all the same roundness and, it seemed to me, the same weight. Perhaps that is why in old India they were used for fine measurements, such as weighing gold. The thought of weighing gold brought the kunch (Abrus precatorius) to mind as well, whose seeds are equally uniform and were used for the same purpose. I planned to collect more the next day, but by then the tree had been taken away from the shop roof and there was nothing left. I was a little sad, until it occurred to me that if that tree had seeded, the tree in our garden would have seeds too. The sadness did not last.
Taking love from everyone
In a break between classes, Shamim, Rasif and I went to the foot of the tree to collect more seeds. I think Zafirul was with us too. We found some fallen branches there, with bipinnate leaves and a great many large, twisted, bean-like pods, and the red seeds were still lodged inside them. That made it easy. Instead of picking seeds out of the soil, we shook them out of the pods and came away with a lot of love. I took everyone’s seeds and filled the little container I keep in my bag. One thought kept going round in my head: I had taken love from everyone. Later, of course, I went round telling everyone to take some love, handing out the seeds one at a time.
Roktochandan around the world
Different countries have found different uses for this tree. In the Philippines the bark was once used for washing clothes and hair. In Papua New Guinea the young leaves are a popular green vegetable. The seeds are poisonous when small and unripe, but fully ripe seeds can be cooked and eaten. In Brazil the tree is planted for reforestation. The wood is very hard, and its reddish colour gives it a beauty of its own, so besides furniture it is used for building boats. Because the bark contains saponin, it is said to be used now and then for making soap.
Now let us go a little deeper into the tree. Its chromosome number is different from ours: we humans carry 46 chromosomes (2n=46), while this tree has 26 (2n=26). Chemical analysis has found a number of flavonoids in it, among them robinetin, butein and dihydrorobinetin, and dihydroxybenzoic acid in the wood. The bark holds saponin, stigmasterol, oleanolic acid and a range of amino acids. The seeds contain several fatty acids, palmitic acid chief among them, along with stigmasterol and galactomannan, and the leaves contain alkaloids. These names are hard to read and harder to write. But when the compounds behind them ease the hardships of life, learning them no longer feels like hard work.
Roktochandan as a herb
The tree has a long history in folk medicine. The seeds are traditionally used on burns, and are said to be used for complaints of the lungs and eyes. Leaves and seeds together were used for rheumatic pain and for blood in the urine, and the young leaves for diarrhoea and dysentery. In the villages the root is known as an emetic, something that makes you vomit.
Let me also tell you about a germ that hides in the gut. A study has reported that an extract of roktochandan acted against the bacterium Campylobacter jejuni, which is one piece of evidence for its antibacterial properties. The work is still confined to experiments in mice, but it did work, and one day it may be of use to us as well.
Anyway, since the seeds are now at home, I can raise roktochandan seedlings whenever I like and plant one in the corner of some garden. In a few years I will not need to go out anywhere to gather seeds. The tree will flower twice a year, and twice a year I will get plenty of love from my very own roktochandan.
The traditional uses described here are for information only. Consult a doctor before using any plant to treat an illness.
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