Here is a post about mangoes and all my childhood memories related to them. Seeing that Summer is already here, it seemed fitting to write about one of the best fruits on this planet!!!
Hope you enjoy this one! Write down in the comments below, if you have YOUR own mango memories! 😀
The moment I saw the crate of mangoes, my mind dived into the hitherto unknown realm of memories.
It is funny how a simple image or the thing you see can trigger an onslaught of memories, good or bad. And that crate of mangoes, that particular one exactly, reminded me one of the fondest memories of my childhood. Funnily enough though, this memory in particular had been deeply suppressed in the back of my mind because of my busy schedule of exams. And that crate had brought it all out.
I remember stepping inside the apartment, that beautiful and wide apartment in Goa that my granny lived in, in which had been most of my childhood vacations. It always used to be the same way: I would step in and would immediately be met with the sweet relish of the fragrance from those mangoes. Then I would proceed to dump my bags in that room after the exhausting flight and immediately spot the crate of–you, guessed it right– mangoes laying in the corner. These were not any mangoes, these were mangoes either handpicked by my dozens of relatives (bless them!) from the personal backyards of their homes or bought freshly from the farmer’s market by my gran!
And let me tell you one thing, I NEVER GREW TIRED OF THOSE MANGOES! It was one thing to see the mangoes, smell the mangoes, a whole other to experience them through taste and touch.
When, as a little kid, I would ask her how these Mango dishes would turn out to be so great, everyone would always voice the typical (and partially truthful) reason: Because Granny made it with love. But I knew that my granny (and my mom, because of that) was a great cook. And still is. She is the most amazing cook I have ever met in my life!
And another thing that made the Mango Feast special was the ambiance. Heat, coupled with the casually random breezes and the vast openness of the city of Panjim was a pleasant place to feast on some mangoes! Having lived in the busiest, most crowded and noisy cities in India (Mumbai), Panjim seems like a peaceful, ‘collect-your-thoughts’ kind of place. The change in scenery of people and places out of my window after coming to Goa was always enough to please me!
And finally, there was the company. Having mangoes is incomplete without your brothers and sisters. Cousins, a whole army of them, would gather around the table and fight over who gets the largest mangoes. I, being one of the youngest, would always be left with the small ones. But it was fun. The best thing about eating mangoes with them was that you could eat them anyhow. You didn’t need a fork or a spoon (God knows who eats mangoes with a spoon and fork but its not unheard of). My mum always warned us to not spill a drop of awesomeness from the mangoes on our attires. Of course, that never turned out to be so.
As I sit here, all these years later, I realize how times have changed. Cousins have grown up, brothers have left for jobs, engineering exams are an obstacle for my visit to Goa in this Summer…… But the one thing that has remained constant is that crate of mangoes, freshly delivered from Goa by my granny.
I love you, my dear Mummy Aji. You rock!
Mangoes, mangoes everywhere!
So before I go, let me ask you, DO YOU LIKE MANGOES? VOTE DOWN BELOW!!
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