The King of Fruits

for Mona & Billa 

after High Noon by Edward Hopper (USA), 1949 CE

       1

   The Rebel

   “There’ll be no regular “Lunch is Served!” announcement, today!” my feminist mother succumbs to the (circa) 50°C baking hot noon; relays her inherited/ascribed role-defying gravamen from the kitchen floor to my father—being an IT/AI aficionado; casually immersed in the newly acquired Samsung Galaxy A04s with his newfound love for Facebook/Metaverse in the TV lounge in the yellow-green Tartan pyjamas. As opposed to uttering the anticipated rejoinder of disapproval, my father, in fact, is jubilant to receive my mother’s Oracle of Nuskuesque proclamation! And his digital keyboards-savvy fingers, at once, feed half a dozen numbers to the luminous dialler on his smart phone: The Mango Party is ON!

   Unable to contain the rush of blood, he leaves the smartness of his smart phone to its own devices, jumps from the sofa – like an overly excited kid leaves everything alone on hearing the bells of the ice cream street vendor – and drags 2 x sealed wooden crates of (Safaid) Chaunsa and Sindhri – fresh consignment received a couple of days ago from Multan – out from underneath the wall-mounted white marble kitchen table; grabs the claw hammer (with a wooden handle) from his > a decade+ old stainless-steel tool box; and claws all 1” long nails out from all four top sides of the both rectangular frames! So, which of the favours of your lord would you deny? – Thanksgiving from his lips echoes across the entire lower portion of our house.

       2

   The Dining Table

   AND voilà! In < 30 minutes, a couple of my maternal/paternal aunts/uncles – along with my cousins – show up at our doorstep in an array of Polish and Tartan checkered pyjamas—like the colony of honeybees descends upon the field of dandelions in the wild! […] The 20+ mangoes’—baptised in a couple of ice cubes-laden oval glass bowls—aroma-laden dining room lures everyone to the dining table – which, only ‘til the said impulsive congregation announcement for the afternoon, was a proud host to an array of my private Kraft journals, Kaweco/Sailor/Pilot fountain pens ‘n inks, Lenovo ThinkPad E15, et cetera.

   Following a rather brief hiatus of hugs ‘n kisses/pleasantries, we all dig in with the stainless-steel fruit silverware! […] “Mango is like a woman; you feel all its delicious, delicious curves with your bare hands; gently peel its skin off with the fingers – as if undressing her durin’ the foreplay – even let the juice stain your clothes – the proper HUMAN-ANIMAL way to eat the fruit!” U. manages to attract a couple of frowns and titters. “That’s most indecent; most rubbish analogy I’ve ever heard!” R. registers her disgust with U. and us, “you simply cut the fruit into two halves at the centre; remove the big elliptic kernel; fashion 2 x mango cups; use the spoon to savour the marrow – the CIVILISED way!” “Just spare the poor fruit all the hugger-mugger/hodgepodge of ‘civilisation/barbarism,” A. voices his discontent with the ‘right way/wrong way-mindset’, “just puncture the fruit ‘round the stem bit with your teeth; suck, suck, suck the pulpy-life out of it; feed the peels to the (un/domesticated) goats ‘n lambs ‘n cows; plant the seed in the earth – the NATURAL way!”

   All the harangue/tautology—on the anatomy, history, socio-economic invaluableness, health benefits, symbolism in art ‘n literature of the King of Fruits—makes my mother – a diabetic – terribly fail at taming the urge and she eventually ends up joining Le Fête! And now, my father rather advertently issues a ‘phallocratic decree’ to her: “[…] But, not > 2-3 slices, please!” (She has always been appreciative of his lovin’ ‘n carin’ disposition; no retorts slip from her mouth, this time ‘round.) […] As the ‘Mango Lovers’ carry on with their trivia, my mother retires to the kitchen to prepare a couple of pitchers of fresh salted lassi – to help us evade any indigestion episodes.

       3

   The Myth

   “What if it was, in fact, the mango, not the (in/famous) apple that the (notorious) Serpent had tempted one Eve with in the Garden of Eden?” I mischievously bid the subconscious adieu, as we all prepare to retire for the afternoon siesta after drinking 2 x 350 ml glasses (each) of the said iced yogurt-based beverage.

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1. Oracle of Nusku: A slave-girl of Bel-ahu-usur from Harran, who’d led a revolt against the late Neo-Assyrian King named Esharhaddon during 671–670 BCE – on receiving a ‘divine message’ from Nusku (Mesopotamian God of Light & Fire).

2. Chaunsa and Sindhri: Two distinct varieties of mango – among 400 others e.g. Langra, Dusserhi, Neelum, Gulab Khas, Anwar Ratol, Fajri, Malda, et cetera – that are locally grown in Pakistan.

3. Multan: A city in the Punjab province of Pakistan; a.k.a. ‘City of Saints and Shrines.’

4. Al-Quran (55:13).

5. Lassi: A traditional yogurt-based drink in India/Pakistan/Iran.