I must start with a confession. Till I was almost a teenager, I thought Alphonso’s were the only Mangoes there were. I mean, when you grow up in Bombay and feast on Hapoos (the local name for the Alphonso Mango), why would you want to eat or know otherwise?
Summer’s meant school holidays and the Mango season. Back in the day, we got fruit that was grown right, allowed to ripen on trees, and plucked right. This is why it was only by the end of May or early June that baskets and ‘Peti’s’ (roughly hewn crates) with dry hay peeking out from them reached our home. These were kept away to ripen naturally, and when they did, the Mangoes let the entire house know they were ready by spreading their delicious fragrance all around.
Eating the 1st of the Mangoes was no ordinary affair, mind you. A Sunday was chosen, buckets of the house were lined up, and ice slabs were ordered. The Mangoes were dunked in a large tub of water and given a good wash, after which they were put into the lined-up buckets along with clean water and chunks of ice. While the mangoes cooled, we relished our Sunday special meal of Rajma, Chawal, and Boondi Raita. Once done, we all (5 Uncles, 3 Aunts, my parents, my sister, me and the house helps) headed to the compound.
My Uncles sat topless, each with a bucket of Mangoes in front of them. A Mango at a time was rescued from the icy water and gently pinched and squeezed all around till all the flesh turned into pulp. They were thus passed around till everyone had one. Only slurping sounds could be heard after that, and the juice trickled down our chins (now you know why my uncles went topless)
Then, the Gutli (seed) was pulled out triumphantly and similarly devoured. This was the 1st round. Many more rounds followed after that. On average, my uncles would eat anything between 6-8 Mangoes each.
We had a regular Mango supplier called ‘Daagi’ (named so as pockmarks riddled his face) Daagi had a lisp and supplied the best Alphonso Mangoes. He was fiercely possessive of our household and was known to have shooed other Mango sellers away. If Daagi was around he joined us on our Mango Sunday. Daagi’s confidence in his Mangoes was so intense that he left Peti’s of Mangoes without taking the payment. ‘Pay me after you taste the mangoes, they come to me straight from the orchards of Ratnagiri’, he boasted.
One Summer Daagi couldn’t return from his village in time, and a new Mango seller came to our door. Though we were reluctant to shift loyalties, his wares of plump Golden Mangoes tempted us, and we bought a couple of kilos.
As soon as Daagi returned a week later, he found out through his seller’s network that another guy had poached us. He was furious and cursed Billi (the other mango seller with green eyes who was named ‘Cat’ because of it) to hell.
A proper verbal duel was played out by both in our compound when Daagi confronted Billi. Words like honesty, deceit, and honor were tossed between the two till Dad intervened and reassured Daagi that he would always be the one we bought Mangoes from each year. Billi refused to relent and emotionally blackmailed Dad. An uneasy truce was agreed upon, and Daagi was our chief Mango supplier, with Billi being the secondary one.
We needed a lot of mangoes you see, and when I say a lot I mean a lot. I remember Mom using 6-7 kgs of Mangoes at a go to make pure Aamras (Mango Juice). No milk was added to it; it was so thick that we needed to eat it with a spoon. Glasses of this were glugged down, and everyone at home demanded more.
Last week, we ordered a couple of dozen Mangoes Online. They came neatly packed in a cardboard box. There was no Daagi or Billi to deliver them. Over the years, I have lost 2 Uncles and 2 Aunts, and eating the 1st Mangoes is no longer the elaborate affair it used to be. Mom still makes the same Aamras but uses just about 2 kilos.
Eating my Hapoos never tasted the same. Eating one makes me miss the sun beating down on my back and warming my hair and the flaming Gulmohar tree swaying in the breeze—the banter between my Uncles and laughter renting the air. The Maali being cajoled into washing the compound clean after we were all done eating, and then rewarded with a dozen Mangoes ‘for his family ‘ as a reward.
Each time I sit down to eat the first Mango of the Season, a Banganapalli is my choice now, served to me neatly peeled and cubed, with a fork to eat it with; I can’t help but think of the Mango Sundays I was fortunate to have grown up experiencing year after year.
Amazing… felt like i was sitting right there
Thank you,Sis.
Mayuri ,so well written it indeed made me go back to my childhood too ,infact that was the only way we really enjoyed eating mangoes with all the juice trickling down our fingers ,now it isn’t the same anymore agree with u ,just enjoy reading ur blogs
Thanks so much, Dr Preeti. Those were the days.
So beautifully written. I could picture the entire setting. You have such a talent for bringing things to life with words❤️ Look forward to reading more.
Thanks so much, Preeti ❤
Daagi is so relatable for me! So are the golden mango days shared by you M. I truly believe it was not jus hapoos but our own beloved family with who we shared our happiness days made hapoos sweeter and tasteful. The chemically ripened hapoos and zoom and whats up family meet can’t ever come close to good old days.
Very refreshing, nostalgic and feel good as feel pinch post, Mayuri.
Thank you for your encouraging comments always, Anagha.
This post got a smile, a chuckle and a sigh of nostalgia. We never had elaborate mango rituals, but litchi one ( we had litchi trees and the relatives used to descend in June when Litchi ripens to take peti’s back).
It’s only when my younger son was born, who cannot resist mango, did we realise how much fun eating a mango can be. Our family fav is Dushheri from maleehabad and we specifically go to lucknow to my sister’s place for it. Unfortunately here we get pesticide ripend mangoes which leave a bitter taste in mouth
I love Litchi’s too. Can imagine all the memories you must have created under the Litchi Trees.
Wow Mayuri. Such a fond memory you let us savour. It took me back to my childhood. Truly, those were the days. We had a mango tree in our yard and I remember dad collecting crates of mangoes and leaving them to ripen in the hay. These crates were kept in the warmest room of the house and I’d often go there just to smell them. This blog post was so relatable.
Thank you,Leha. I am so glad it resonated with you.
Mayuri it is great to read ur blog brought back memories of eating mangoes together with family members and enjoying the hapoos really missing those days.
Your post has made me nostalgic and I re called my beautiful childhood memories of eating and enjoying mangoes in the similar manner as you mentioned in the post. here in USA we did not get that good quality mangoes and I missed so much Ma ke haath ka aam rus during summer season.
I have n numbers of mango memories and you took me back to those memory lane. My grandfather used to bring mangoes from our own village can we use to relish different varieties of mangoes.
Such a heart felt post and brought back those beautiful memories. I remembering going to my Nani’s place in summer vacation and as me and my brother wete her favorite, she used to hide some extra mangoes for us. Will not get back those days but can definitely cherish those beautiful memories.
That is such a sweet memory to cherish, Swati. Thank you for sharing it, and reading too.
I am not a die-heart fan of mangos but yes, I do enjoy them in the season. Mango shakes and aamras brings back summer holiday memories . Here we don’t get India type mangoes but whatever we get, I try to make the best out of them.
Thanks for sharing the information, Alpana.
This is such a beautiful write up which is taking me back to my beautiful childhood days, I love eating mangoes and licking the juice down my fingers.. U have written a lovely blog
Glad you enjoyed reading it, Hema.
Yeah how true how eagerly we used to wait and soak them in tubs, you brought back such fond memories for all of us.
Thanks for reading, Roma.
Your post took me back to my childhood days where mangoes were more than just a fruit. It was a bond we shared as a family. Those fights for the last slice and the hunt for the one who ate the last mango in the fridge; those times were beautiful.
Beautifully put, Parul. Glad you resonated with the post. Thank you for reading.
Ah, mangoes invoke such nostalgia! Your mango trivia are similar to mine, the only difference being that we were a nuclear family. Gone are those days. Never tried buying mangoes yet, we always rely on our neighbourhood fruitwala.
Thank you for reading, Varsha.
Very well written. It took me to my childhood days. Those were the golden memories of our life.
Thank you, Priyal.
Mango is one such fruit which surely has scores of memories tapped in every psyche. Love the day you have weaved the story around mangoes.
Thank you, Dipika.
Mangoes are more than just fruit for us Indians, aren’t they? They come laden with nostalgia, filled with memories of times that are gone. Times that have however left their lingering sweetness, just like mangoes do. The only difference is the mangoes are back the next year while the time that has gone never returns.
The only difference is the mangoes are back the next year while the time that has gone never returns – So beautifully said. Thank you for reading.
Indeed a beautiful memory of the Mango season that has to be cherished forever. Moreover, the laughter and banter that come with those moments are priceless and bring smiles to our faces. Your story took me back to my childhood days when we used to have ‘Aam KA Bagicha’ and how my grandfather keeps the first harvest of mango for the whole family and then trucks to trucks it goes for the selling in the market.
It took me back to my childhood. Mango not only tastes good but has many health benefits. Great thoughts.
We all have memories of summer and mangoes which is faded in the rush of today’s world. This sounds nostalgic read to me back to my childhood
Oh, Mayuri this post of yours has brought out so many memories from my childhood. Even we would visit grandmothers house in summers and we had a mango tree from which we would pluck the mangoes and eat. Those were the sweetest of all that I ever had in my life.
A slice of fruit brings back oodles of memories 🙂 What a beautiful write-up. Eating mangoes isn’t the same in our house anymore too, however, our little ones being obsessed with this fruit and eat it like we use to, brings a smile on my face 🙂
Aww that is such lost in time memory.. Life goes on and life doesn’t stands still for anyone. Mango Sundays what a sweet memory to cherish and remember those people you lost in time.
Having the first fruit of the season is always special and reading your family ritual to savour the mangoes was touching one. We used to have basket full of custard apple (sitaphal) and whole family used to relish it.
The post took me back to my childhood days when we too used to enjoy eating mangoes with the family, uncle, aunts and cousins. Oh, how fun it was.
The post took me back to my childhood days when we too used to enjoy eating mangoes with the family, uncle, aunts and cousins. Oh , how lovely those days were!!
This made me feel so nostalgic, like travelling back. Mango seasons are so cherished and truly brings back old beautiful memories with them.
Mango is more than a fruit. It’s an emotion, a feeling and a wonderful memory for every Indian. Slice it, pulp it or just eat it directly, mango does its magic in every form.