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Mango madness
KARTIK Shah is a fine man and most women will second that. But when Mumbai burns, guys, remember it was he who started the fire. I mean, his Alphonso tattle is driving me mangoes (or is it bananas, or nuts...I don't remember). It's time someone told Kartik, his Gujarati brethren, Goan sisters and other cohorts from Ganpati land (the 3Gs) that they are straining the slender Alphonso branch too far. I arrived in Mumbai in March-end. That's the time when north Indian mango trees are still flowering. But two minutes out of Andheri station and five seconds into my first traffic jam in Mumbai, I ran into a boxful of reputedly ripe Alphonsos. There's a species of apparitions that haunts Mumbai's streets. It materialises in traffic jams, bearing a red box marked with yellow picture-book mangoes and the letters A-L-P-H-O-N-S-O. Man, I've been to school
and stayed up through enough geography classes to know something about
the Alphonso. I know, for instance, that the Alphonso is respected and
relished the world over. And, believe me, I came to Mumbai with every
intention to join that wide-wide world. |
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Lest someone should accuse me of being prejudiced against the Alphonso, I would like to make clear that we north Indians are taught to love all mangoes as our own. Even those that sway in the neighbour's yard. We love good mangoes but this does not prevent our flirting with bad ones. If sleeping with a bad mango or two (in your belly) is sin, we more than atone for it by climaxing the next meal with the real McDassehris or McLangdas or McChausas. But never mind what we do, it is the 3Gs' abetment of the Alphonso's waywardness that I want to show up. Knowing fully well how this mango is given to acting pricey, the 3Gs go out to buy it in all the odd months. And how! Everybody in office has to know that such and such person will buy Alphonsos on the weekend. The uninitiated may be pardoned for assuming that Alphonso is a prospective groom whom the aforementioned colleague/s will be checking out. The story does not end there either. On Monday, an Alphonso or two are brought to office, to be shared amongst the entire team. I am not sure if everybody gets a cut but they certainly get to feel the mango, as everyone is seen licking fingers before leaving the table. If, on this momentous occasion, you happen to remark something like, "This stuff is overpriced," or "I am sure it was plucked green," the 3Gs assume you are longing for some peace and quiet and they leave you in complete silence for the next few days! But have I told you what harm the Alphonso works on character? Look at Kartik Shah, who otherwise prides himself on being a "miserly Gujju bania". This man happily spends 10 bucks for a bottle-capful of aam ras and 30 more for a glassful of mango shake. I tell him the two concoctions smell and taste strongly of cheap and sour mangoes. But he insists some hafoos (Gujarati for Alphonso) certainly went into the deal! Have it your way, I used to tell him till, one day, I couldn't help adding that our Dassehri certainly seems a better fruit on most counts. Actually, all counts. Guess what he said to that. He said, "The Dassehri isn't a patch on the Alphonso. OUR Dassehri not a patch on THEIR Alphonso!! The MCP (mango chauvinist pig). Now if Mumbai burns, guys,
let nobody doubt who started the fire. |
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