One of the greatest fortunes I consider in my life is to grow up in the lush green state of Kerala in India. We lived in a, now 77 years old, ancestral home built by my grandpa, whom we affectionately called Achayan.
The plot where we stayed had
two levels, with the house occupying most of the upper level and a backyard
with numerous trees and plants that adorned the lower one. Among the many
trees, we had half a dozen varieties of mangoes, some sweet and some bordering
sour.
As a man born one year before
First World War started, Achayan had certain special ways about him, some of
which may sound strange to the generations that followed. One such unique
interest was his practice of having lunch with the typical Kerala boiled rice
mixed with a slightly sour type of mango named 'Kannan'.
May and June used to be the
season for mangoes in the tropical Kerala climate. The trees flowered during
May and bore fruit in June. The famous Kerala monsoon also started in June,
blessing us with not just rains, but also showers of ripe mangoes!
As a young boy, one of my
first duties in the morning during those months was to run to the backyard and
fetch all the mangoes that 'Kannan' had to offer from the previous night's
rain. I must state here that the tree never disappointed me. There would be at
least two mangoes that awaited me. As I fetched them, I could feel the old
tree, which must be older than Achayan himself, smiling with happiness of
feeding yet another generation.
Closer to lunch time, mom
would give Achayan, a bowl of rice water along with slices of mango that I
fetched in the morning. Then started the most important part of the unique
process leading to the special mango rice. Achayan would squeeze every bit of
pulp from the mango slices, that at the end of the exercise, nothing would be
left except for the empty skin of mango.
During the process, enough
rice water is added to the mango pulp to bring it to the required consistency.
The gourmet mango mix was ready. A plate of steaming hot rice awaited the magic
potion. Once mixed, the legendary mango rice was born!
As a connoisseur of stories
from the past, I ensured that I shared the taste of this special preparation
with Achayan a few times. Though it did not convert me into an ardent fan, the
taste of that unique dish left lasting memories for me to recall the experience
even after almost four decades.
We all live once in this
world. But how many of us leave beautiful memories behind us for our next
generations to reminisce and recollect?
I love my Achayan, who lives in my heart forever. The mango rice story just added a flavour to those memories.
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