By Savitri Narayanan
“Varuna, where are you?” called out dadiji, “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Coming, dadiji, just a minute,” Varuna replied.
In the backyard, the mangoes on the tree had ripened. Quite a few had fallen to the ground. Varuna had collected them in a bag.
“A sweet gift for my sweet dadiji,” she shouted as she entered the kitchen.
“All yours, bitiya,” smiled dadiji. “I eat them year after year, you’re here after so long!”
Varuna stayed in California with her parents who worked there. The last time they came home was two years ago for Sanju chacha’s marriage. The ceremony was at their place in Delhi where the whole family had assembled. Papaji had only two weeks’ leave so they all stayed put in Delhi, didn’t even go to Zeeshbaug.
This time it was different. Varuna had come by herself. Her senior school exams were just over. Graduation classes in the university would commence only after two months.
“You deserve a break,” at the dinner table papaji had said. “Kamal is going home for annual holidays, do you want to go too?”
Kamal uncle was papaji’s colleague. He was from Delhi.
“That’s a good idea,” mummyji said. “Dadaji and dadiji would love to have you in Zeeshbaug.”
Things happened quickly. At Delhi airport, Sanju chacha and Meenal chachi received her. They drove straight to Zeeshbaug. Dadaji and dadiji were all smiles as Varuna entered the bungalow.
Within no time, Varuna found her bearings and adjusted to the new routine. Wandering outdoors was so much more fun than watching TV, reading, computer and similar things. Also, dadaji and dadiji were fun to be with in a special way. Dadiji’s cooking was amazing, so tasty with so much variety!
“Ripe mangoes for breakfast,” dadiji laughed aloud. “Have some of these instead!”
Varuna looked at the yellowish pods in the bowl and asked, “What’s that?”
“Jackfruit, ripe and sweet,” said dadaji picking up and eating one. He fondly looked at Varun and turned to dadiji laughing aloud, “How will she know, God alone knows what they get to eat in America!”
Varuna too helped herself to some and said, “Once papaji had brought some from the Indian stores, can’t remember the taste…”
“We grew up in villages where mangoes and jackfruits were plenty through the summer months,” dadaji said and turned to Varuna, “Bitiya, have you seen a jackfruit?”
“I’ve seen the picture dadaji, it looks so big with spiky skin.”
After breakfast dadaji picked up a shopping bag and said, “Chalo bitiya, let’s go to the market.”
Dadiji and Varuna exchanged glances. Dadaji put on his sandals. “Today is Tuesday, grab this opportunity to shop in the village market”
Varuna happily walked with dadaji through the village lanes. As they reached closer, there were more people around with their bags. Some had their produce like vegetables and fruits.
The market was a busy place. The handcarts were heaped with ginger, papayas, leafy vegetables, fruits, etc., and the owners called out aloud to attract customers. There was an energy of enterprise and friendly companionship.
“Look, there’s a jackfruit,” said dadaji and guided Varuna through the crowd.
Wide eyed Varuna watched the way the huge spiky fruit was cut into pieces and the pods were skillfully extracted.
“They’re delicious,” smiled the vendor. “Eat your fill now, take the rest home!”
And that’s what they did! Right there, standing on the roadside they ate pods of ripe jackfruit!
“Dadaji, such a lively market! How I wish my classmates back home were here!”
“When the time comes it will happen, bitiya,” said Dadaji. “The way you and your parents went all the way to America, your friends could travel to these parts too!”
“Thank you dadaji for this treat by the roadside,” Varuna laughed aloud as they walked back home.
(Savitri Narayanan is a retired educationist at present in Goa. A mother and grandmother, loves reading, writing and travelling.)
