Mangoes are one of the few redeeming factors about summer; the others being vacations and getting to stay indoors with the air-conditioner on.
As a child, I was fortunate enough to grow up in a house with a large garden that was home to mango trees of every kind. -Alphonso, Payari, Langda, Dasseri, Totapari, Neelampari and a few humbler ‘unbranded’ ones.
Of all these, the ‘payari’ tree was my favourite; tall, shady with sprawling branches, it gave generously of its fruit every year. I remember running out to it every day, gathering up the fallen raw mangoes and later having them chopped up and sprinkled with salt and chilli powder! When the mangoes were bigger, they would be plucked and stored in a room, all covered with hay and gunny-bags and left to ripen. There would be so many that we didn’t know what to do with them. Distributing them to friends and neighbours was not always the answer, since we lived in a place where everyone had mango trees in their gardens too!
The Alphonso tree was more whimsical, as if it knew its worth. Its fruits would be few and far between, but each one was counted on the branch and jealously guarded. I never understood what the fuss was all about, back then!
The others were like a back-up for when the mango season was coming to an end, we could satisfy our cravings with them, even though they were never really good enough!
I remember when we tried sending some of our choicest mangoes to our relatives in another city. The mangoes were carefully selected, laid in a wooden crate layered with hay, which was sealed with a gunny sackcloth and sent on its way with a whole lot of hope and prayers. Later we got to know that the crate had reached- empty, unless one counted the few peels and seeds left within! Obviously, the railway or P.O employees had feasted on them!
A far cry from today when crated Alphonso mangoes travel the world. But I’ll bet they don’t taste the same as our home-grown, home-ripened ones did!
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