Throw it in the most derelict corner of the town, in the most utterly impoverished conditions you can find where few plants have managed to barely sprout, and the Giant Milkweed will grow forth royally. From right within a landfill, or beside the stench of an open sewer, through the dilapidated ruins of broken brick and concrete, amidst the blue-metal stones by railway tracks or from a crevice on a compound wall, there are a few places Milkweed is unwilling to rise from. Its grit and versatility are quite remarkable to note, yet it survives not by propagating itself rapaciously, dominating over all the other vegetation. It is no Prosopis, even though its hardy. The Milkweed instead exists in abundance together with all the other plants, never seeking to take over the land for itself. It co-habits and thrives. The latex which flows through the milkweed’s veins is well known to be highly poisonous, but that’s only to our stomachs and to cattle and other grazing mammals. A number
I am Yuvan, a naturalist, writer and activist based in Chennai. My work revolves around bringing nature education to children. In my travels I seek to understand how our mindscapes and cultures may be rooted in, braided with place and wilderness. My writings have appeared in Sanctuary Asia, Roundglass Sustain, The Hindu, etc. My book 'A Naturalist's Journal' is a collection of essays on countryside wilderness and my journey in walking out of the schooling-college system to educate myself.