The afternoon sun and the taste of raw mangoes
A hot afternoon in the month of Chaitra. The surroundings are quiet, only the mail bird is calling incessantly. The elders of the house are all asleep after lunch. That's when our real adventure would begin.Me, Saju, and Roni—three figures quietly stepped out into the courtyard. Roni had a sharp knife hidden at his waist, taken secretly from his mother’s kitchen. Our target was the drooping tree at the back of our house, with its unripe mangoes. Roni quickly climbed the tree like a squirrel and picked four large green mangoes.
We sat down in the shade of the jam tree by the old pond with the mangoes. Saju took out a paper pouch from his pocket. It contained crushed dry chili powder, salt, and a little mustard oil.Using the knife, we peeled the mangoes and cut them into small pieces. We then placed the mango pieces on the paper pouch and mixed them well with our hands. When the pieces glistened with the mixture of red chili powder and yellow salt, it was hard to control the saliva in our mouths!
With each bite, our eyes were closing in on the divine taste of sour, spicy, and sweet. Roni was shedding tears from the heat, Saju was making “uhn-uh” sounds, but no one was willing to stop. Looking at each other and seeing our reddened faces from the spice, we couldn’t help but laugh!
In today’s world, even in expensive restaurants, you can’t find the taste of raw mangoes mixed with salt and chili from that afternoon. It wasn’t just a taste; it was the pure joy of our golden childhood.
