Mangoes and Memories!
I had my first plate of curd rice with mangoes in almost two years. Watermelon and mango are two fruits I’ve never purchased after moving to Canada. When a wonderful colleague at a friend gave me a mango I took it home and it sat in my kitchen counter for a week until I could not bear seeing it shrink. I cut it up and sat down to eat it with tears prickling the corner of my eyes. Each bite and morsel brought out an evocative memory of scorching Indian summers and juicy ripe Banganapli mangoes. Memories of a mother who would just eat the tiny amount of flesh around the seed only so we would have enough, a father who would religiously carry bags of mango up three flights of stairs almost every day during mango season, a sister who would sneak mango cubes onto my plate, Sunday family lunches in the sweltering Chennai summer when every meal would end with curd rice with mangoes and piping hot puris with puréed mangoes which my mother would serve me endlessly. Such memories of love. Su...
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