Amidst all the changes around me , one thing remains constant . The happiness on seeing and tasting the season’s first raw mango. Just the sight of that simple green mango brings back years of memories . It all started in school where we had a elderly guy selling mangoes and pineapples and gooseberries outside. Canteens were not so big and modern unlike today. Everyday after school we used to walk to the bus stand with a slice of whatever he was selling in our hands . The financing was done by whoever had got pocket money that day . Even otherwise we were credit worthy customers. Often he maintained our balances without any books or paper. During parents teachers meeting I used to be scared he would demand that balance from my parents. Nothing happened though . That sliced mango sprinkled with salt and chilly was the perfect afternoon snack for us returning to our homes . The magic of that masala was seldom produced at home.He was a constant friend for our years at school. Don’t know if he still remains there. When school friends meet we often talk about those mango days .It has become a part of every stage of my life .
Then came the college life .Mangoes came in all sizes and shapes from friends returning from their homes.Mangoes weren’t cut but consumed directly in great numbers. The heat it generated showed up in the Evenings but it seldom bought down the eagerness of having a fresh raw mango .The season starts with raw , sour mangoes .The process of them changing from sour to the juiciest and sweetest of all in itself is magic.
Time passed ,circumstances changed,places changed, but the long wait for the summer mangoes remain the same and it’s absolute ecstasy to taste the first one.After so many years , just a sight of sliced mango sprinkled with salt takes me back to my childhood and am a kid again .Amidst all the uncertainties I am sure this good friend of mine will visit me every summer .