Summer with Mangoes

Depiya Thoudam

Forgotten are those days of winter
Frosty mornings and chilly nights
Those weighted blankets ain’t in sight

Sun rises early and sets much later
For sure the winter has passed
Golden mustard flowers are gone
Must have been tired of dancing
Round the clock to the rhythm of wind

Now it’s the turn for the mango tree
Ladened with racemose inflorescences
Numerous bees and birds paying visits
For sure they won’t flower for long
Many of them would not tolerate
The ruthless rhythm of nor wester

Will fall down to the beat of thunders
Will be blown away like shabby homes
From those remaining flowers that clung
Soon tiny green mango fruits will pop up
Many of them will be brought to the ground
By strong wind, hail storm and nor wester

Don’t pity them, we all belong to the ground
No matter how many detours we make
Doesn’t matter whether flowers or fruits
All goes in the ground, the only destination
Those little mangoes with strong pedicels
Will cling to their branches till they get big

Some will be plucked when green and firm
To be eaten with green chillies and salt
And to be pickled with mustard seeds
Remaining ones cling on till they turn yellow
Then they will be plucked and sliced
And my grandpa would say taking a slice
“Summer isn’t Summer without mangoes”.