Summers are the hardest every year. Yes, I am serious. Not because of the scorching heat from the sun but for the mangoes.
All along the year, I wait for these two months to taste mangoes.
These sweet, juicy, flavourful yellow fruits can pull me back to them from anywhere I am. Eating one or two doesn’t make a difference, but that cannot suffice my hunger. This addiction has grown so much that I have started to eat closer to a dozen mangoes every single day, skipping almost all other food.
Why have I grown up with an addiction to this fruit, for which I cannot even find a rehabilitation center to treat myself out of ? Well…who is responsible for this? I have been trying to find an answer to this question but every time unsatisfactory.
Thinking of my mom as accountable for my uncontrollable habit, I asked her, “Mom, why did you make me taste mangoes when I was a kid?” She replied, “No! It was you, who grabbed a piece of it from my plate.” She walked away and then turned back and sarcastically added, “We don’t own a mango farm darling and I hope you are aware of that,” and walked off laughing while I stayed in silence.
Wait. What did my mother just say?? Was she mocking me for innumerable mangoes that they buy for me to eat or did she just blame me for all my eating habits?
No..No…How can I be responsible for my eating habit? Maybe my mom, but she denied it. So who’s responsible for this?
I stood there thinking.
Maybe…It could be mangoes. Why not? Those are the ones that tie a string to my heart and fall for me over and over again. Not me! I am just being humble to them.
So it’s all because of mangoes that I am trapped in this cell of love for more than a decade, contrary to 21st century of short love stories.
Let me now be over with this. It’s them- the mangoes. Not me!!
If they continue to taste, look and smell eternal then I wouldn’t hesitate to give myself completely to these beautiful yellow fruits and promise not to betray them until death.