Mango Memories

If I crave raw mangoes,

I can still find it—

even in California,

On grocery store shelves.

But at exorbitant prices

and may be stale.

But my childhood,

in rural India,

was all about,

mango opulence.

From blossoms,

to the stones turning

into saplings,

I saw the mango tree’s,

entire life cycle unfold.

After mango showers,

When the green fruits,

dropped galore,

we’d gather them,

in bamboo baskets—

to make pickles.

No peelers needed,

river clam shells,

were good enough.

Sitting with mother,

peeling the mangoes,

talking about life—

that was the definition

of family bonding.

Note: Have you ever used clam shells to peel mangoes?