Mangoes in my parents house. Now all thats left of these would be their well licked seeds. Nothing can quite compare with the smell and flavour of a warm freshly picked mango. I wish there were mango farms here too, not just apple and berry ones. There was a giant mango tree (maavu) in my father's ancestral house(naadu) which had the juiciest mangoes ever. The branches were so high up that we couldn't climb it, and twice in a season, we had someone harvest the mangoes. One of my earliest memories of our vacations there, is competing with my cousins to wake up early to run out and pick the mangoes which fell in the early morning. They were still unbruised and had escaped the birds. The skin was dark green and inside it was golden yellow and pulpy. I could easily eat 3-4 at a time before my stomach hurt. The technique was to squeeze the mango from all sides (similar to releasing the lemon's juices) till it was softened. Then make a incision at the top and suck the juice out before peeling and eating the rest. A very messy way of eating, but that's what is different about childhood.
We had that type of mango at our home too, and we used to eat it exactly as you explained. Also we had priyoor mango, and two other kinds of mango trees growing in our compound. We too used to go out and pick up the mangoes from the ground first thing in the morning. Wonderful memories! You just made me very very homesick shaheen. I want to go home.........
ReplyDeleterp,
ReplyDeletethat ancestral house and tree are long gone. All i have left are memories and they get rekindled whenever i buy the american mangoes from indian grocery stores.
Shaheen, I can relate to your post so much about childhood carefree days and eating the mango (the messy way, as you put it..:)). Just love those days!!
ReplyDelete