Hyderabad’s Bathukamma blooms, women sellers toil behind scenes

Gudimalkapur Flower Market is Hyderabad’s primary wholesale flower hub. A normal day begins as early as 3 am and lasts until dusk—buzzing with customers and buyers, wholesale merchants and retailers. 

Famous for its massive quantities of jasmine, marigolds, roses, lilies, and chrysanthemums, it is the major pitstop for regional festivals like Bathukamma, Dasara, and Deepawali.

Today, on a Saturday morning, as Sarika gently rocks her baby while sitting beside her pile of flowers, she bargains fiercely with customers like a seasoned businesswoman.

Young and old, couples and friends have surrounded the market with one demand—flowers for Bathukamma, the vibrant nine-day floral festival celebrated by women in Telangana and parts of Andhra Pradesh to honour Goddess Gauri, the wife of Lord Shiva.

A walk in the narrow lanes of Gudimalkapur Flower Market welcomes you with a mix of scents. In some corners, the fragrances of marigolds and jasmine mingle, while elsewhere, the stench of dumped old flowers, mud, dirt and people’s sweat. At one point, it becomes difficult to tell one smell from another, as all blend into one.

Sarika is one of the thousands of women sellers who come every day from in and around Hyderabad, and some from neighbouring districts, to sell flowers. It is not just Bathukamma for the customers; it is their festival too. But for them, business comes before the festival.

“If we do not sell, where will we get money for our food? Then what is there to celebrate?” says Yaadamma. This 45-year-old mother of two teenage daughters set up her flowers a day before and stayed put there. She sells dyed flowers, a common sight in Bathukamma arrangements, primarily because the traditional wild flowers are in short supply.

“I came here last evening, dyed the flowers in different colours and slept here, so that I could start my business as early as possible,” she tells Siasat.com.

Yadamma hails from the Medchal district. Her day doesn’t end in the evening. She will now go back to her family, make dinner, clean the house, take a bath and then prepare for her Bathkamma. “It will be very late,” she says. “But we have to do it. Both are important,” her tired eyes speak more than her words.

Bathukamma is celebrated with colourful stacks of seasonal flowers arranged in a conical shape. Among them, tangedu and gunugu take centre stage, surrounded by bright yellow and orange marigolds, white chrysanthemums, the orange hues of the firecracker flower (locally known as Kanakambaram), jasmine, lotus, and hibiscus.

Tangedu and gunugu hold a special place. Tangedu is bright yellow and the state flower of Telangana, and gunugu is a soft, vibrant wildflower that blooms across fields and uncultivated stretches during the monsoon season. These two are also considered Goddess Gauri’s favourite flowers.

Flower vendor handing yellow flower bouquet to customer at Gudimalkapur Flower Market. A customer buys a bunch of tangedu flower from a seller.  

Alvelaamma sells the firecracker flower. The rate today is Rs 50 for a 250-gram bag. IWP sits with her and her companions as she tries to woo customers, but not many are impressed with the price. At one point, her companion turns to her and says, “What do they expect us to do? Give it for free?”

Alvelaamma comes from Shamshabad. She has been in this business for more than 15 years. “Yes, it is tiresome, but we have to work. And the Goddess gives me strength,” she smiles. 

She and her companions are waiting for the tea-seller. “I have not had tea since morning. Did not get the time. Today is the last day, and we expect a lot of sales,” she says.

Yaadamma, Kamalamma and Bharathamma from Nadergul village in Rangareddy are over 50 years old. Kamalamma is the oldest of them. All three women sell the tangedu flower.

Every day, they travel around 30 kilometres by bus to the flower market. “These drivers will not stop at the bus stop. We have big bags of flowers. They expect us to run like young men,” says an irritated Bharathamma, while Yaadamma and Kamalamma giggle.

Yaadamma constantly rubs her knees. She tells Siasat.com that the pain in her joints sometimes makes it difficult to fall asleep, even as her body is worn down. This is the time of year they come here. Other days, they do farm work and if that does not suffice, even daily wage labour.

“We have been in the flower business here for so long. We go around the town collecting tangedu flowers and bring them here to sell,” Kamalamma says as she attends to a young couple.

It is hard work and leaves them exhausted. But business is important. “We have to sell—under the sun or rain,” Yaadamma says.

For vendors like Anjamma, the financial incentive outweighs the festivities. “I work even on Bathukamma because some people require flowers at the last minute, and that means extra earnings for us,” she says, adding that she will not be having a Bathukamma celebration this year because of work.

Walking through the flower-and-mud-strewn lanes of Gudimalkapur market, you see the place filled with women flower sellers at every corner. 

Some sit in small groups, laughing over shared jokes, while others sip their morning tea to ease the strain of the early hours. Yet, amid these moments of warmth, tired faces are hard to miss.

One such face is that of 35-year-old Jyothi, who is selling bundles of Gunugu with a frown, looking visibly irritated by the persistent bargaining. Between shielding her flowers from damage and managing the customers gathered around her, you can see the endless negotiations taking a toll on her. 

When Siasat.com asks about her own Bathukamma, she gives a faint smile and says, “It is morning, and I am tired already, but for my children’s happiness, I am going to celebrate. My daughters love the bright colours of marigolds.”

While crowds come in waves and disperse with armfuls of marigolds, tangedu and roses, a long day follows for Jyothi, Yaadamma, Sarika, and hundreds of women sellers who make up the heart of Gudimalkapur Market. 

Women across Telangana come together for the nine-day celebration, but Alvelaamma’s early morning commute from Shamshabad or young mother Sarika’s unseen labour is rarely regarded in these celebrations. 

It is, in fact, these women—mothers, daughters, and sole breadwinners who truly carry the colour and enthusiasm of Bathukamma.

Every evening, when the market hums down, these women take that same beauty back to their own doorsteps. Among them is Rajeshwari.

 “Bathukamma is my favourite festival,” she smiles. “I am going to go home and make a beautiful stack with my flowers. I will layer the marigolds and the orange firecracker flowers and top it with wild gunugu. My house looks beautiful with it.”