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It was an apple that Eve tempted Adam in the Garden of Eden with, but a mango perhaps would have been the more fitting fruit. The apple's glossy and inviting exterior, the sinful associations of its red hue, give way to a far more contained interior. The apple's flesh is sweet and tart, but crisp and cool — it has no give. The mango, on the other hand, is decidedly carnal. It evokes visions of teeth sinking into soft, warm pulp... nectar dribbling down to stain the eater and their environs. You can't eat a mango without making a glorious mess.
As sensual as it is, the mango can also be playful and innocent: the focus of childhood games and greed, of pleasurable gluttony, of anticipation and fulfilment. When seen in that light, the mango becomes a symbol of something ephemeral and fleeting, rarely to be enjoyed in quite the same way again.
It has been a favourite of royalty and the commoner. Its various iterations have legions of acolytes ready to worship at a very specific altar, to the exclusion of all others. It is coveted in its natural form, both ripe and raw, in preparations that treat it with the merest hint of other ingredients and in those that subsume its bold, full-bodied flavour into myriad others.
The mango is a shape-shifter. With a mango, there can be no half-measures.
As the "king" of fruits marks another annual season in India, we're tracing its influence beyond the plate and the senses — into the realm of art. Come join us as we gather these odes to aam.
Illustrations by: Gulal Salil | Curated by: Suryasarathi Bhattacharya
***
MIRZA GHALIB | dar sifat-e-ambah | در صفت انبہ
Mujhse poochho, tumhen khabar kya hai
ask me! for what do you know?
Aam ke aagey neyshakar kya hai
a mango is far sweeter than sugarcane…
Ya ye hoga ke fart-e rafa’at se
perhaps from the great heights above
Baagh baanon ne baagh-e-jannat se
the gardeners of heaven’s orchards
Angabeen ke, ba hukm-e rabb-in-naas
have sent, by the order of God
Bhar ke bheje hain sar ba mohar gilaas
wine filled in sealed glasses
***
AKBAR ALLAHABADI | aam-nama | आम-नामा | مزید دریافت کیجیے
नामा न कोई यार का पैग़ाम भेजिए
O beloved do not send any messages
इस फ़स्ल में जो भेजिए बस आम भेजिए
This season if you want to send just send mangoes
ऐसा ज़रूर हो कि उन्हें रख के खा सकूँ
I should be able to keep them and eat
पुख़्ता अगरचे बीस तो दस ख़ाम भेजिए
If twenty are ripe ten should be raw
मालूम ही है आप को बंदे का ऐडरेस
You know the address of yours truly
सीधे इलाहाबाद मिरे नाम भेजिए
Send them directly to my address at Allahabad
ऐसा न हो कि आप ये लिक्खें जवाब में
It should not so happen that you reply
तामील होगी पहले मगर दाम भेजिए
That you will follow my order but first I should send the money
***
MARY OLIVER | The Mango
One evening
I met the mango.
At first there were four or five of them
in a bowl.
They looked like stones you find
in the rivers of Pennsylvania
when the waters are low.
That size, and almost round.
Mossy green.
But this was a rich house, and clever too.
After salmon and salads,
mangoes for everyone appeared on blue plates,
each one cut in half and scored
and shoved forward from its rind, like an orange flower,
cubist and juicy.
When I began to eat
things happened.
All through the sweetness I heard voices,
men and women talking about something —
another country, and trouble.
It wasn't my language, but I understood enough.
Jungles, and death. The ships
leaving the harbours, their holds
filled with mangoes.
Children, brushing the flies away
from their hot faces
as they worked in the fields.
Men, and guns.
The voices all ran together
so that I tasted them in the taste of the mango,
a sharp gravel in the flesh.
Later, in the kitchen, I saw the stones
like torn-out tongues
embedded in the honeyed centres.
They were talking among themselves —
family news,
a few lines of a song
for a last comfort.
It was a long evening.
There was music.
Brandy.
Snapshots of China.
Things wound themselves together the way they always do —
health, art, profit. Where to travel
for the best weather. Where to buy
the cheapest, the best and sweetest of anything.
Then we all said goodbye
and kissed, on the black lawn, like strangers.
***
RABINDRANATH TAGORE | Kaancha Aam (Green Mango) | কাঁচা আম
In the month of Chaitra
In the mellow morning sun
Below the tree on the ground
I saw three green mangoes lying.
I didn’t feel eager to collect them.
When I was sipping my tea it struck me
How there have been changes in the wind
That powers my sails.
The eastern point of the river crossing
Where I had boarded the ferry boat
Is gradually becoming indistinct.
There was a time
When such mangoes found by chance
Served me as a golden key
To the secret chamber of my whole day’s pleasure;
I don’t need a key now
The lock is no longer there.
Let me begin at the beginning.
At the time of my life
When from a different house
She came to this house as a new bride
My mind was like a boat at anchor
Her arrival rocked that boat like a spring tide.
No longer serving me in a fixed miserly measure
My destiny became bounteous.
My surroundings lost their shabby mundane appearance.
For a few days the festive orchestra
Played without interruption
It changed the very language we daily use;
In lamps and chandeliers,
There was a riot of light in every room.
The familiar became mysterious.
And one who came that day bedecked in bridal dress
Let me understand she was not one who is common
She was exclusive, unique and incomparable.
As a boy for the first time I realised
There are things in this world
Which can be seen but not known.
The music stopped but its message remained -
The bride also remained
Covered in an unseen mysterious aura.
Whether she was friendly or cross
All her play was only with my young sisters.
Shyly I wanted to be close to her,
But her sari confounded my mind
And her frowns convinced me
I was not a girl but a boy
I was of a different kind.
We were more or less of the same age
But not made of the same material.
Presenting her something
I very much wanted to build a bridge between us.
One day poor me! I got a book of pictures
I thought that with that book I shall surprise her.
Laughing she said, ‘What shall I do with it?’
Such tragedies are ignored in history
None feels any sympathy!
The boy spends all his days bent in humiliation.
Is there no judge who will say
These books are really of some use?
Yet in the meantime, it became evident
Though she remained beyond my reach
At times she would step down from her high domain –
Marinating with herbs and chilli
She loves to eat green mangoes.
To a simpleton and a boy like me
To get some favour from her
There was only one door open.
But to scale a tree there was strict prohibition.
So as soon as the wind blew
I ran to the garden
If by chance I got a fruit!
From beyond my reach I would see
How green, shapely and beautiful it was,
It was one of nature’s most wonderful gifts.
Those who are greedy cut it and eat it
They cannot see its heavenly beauty.
One day in the midst of a hail storm
I had collected some mangoes.
‘Who asked you to bring them?’ she had told me
And I had said ‘None.’
All the mangoes of the basket I threw on the ground.
Another day I was stung by bees;
She told me, ‘You don’t have to take so much trouble for fruits.’
I kept quiet.
Gradually we grew up.
She had once presented me a gold ring;
Something lovely was engraved on it.
One day while bathing in the Ganges I lost it –
I searched but never got it back.
For years green mangoes are falling down under the tree.
She can no longer be found.
***
The Fruit of Wisdom | ஞானப்பழம்
One day, the Vedic sage Narada (famous in Hindu traditions as a musical storyteller) came with a mango fruit to Kailash, the abode of Shiva. The family was in a joyous mood where Parvati and Shiva were laughing at the naughty mischiefs of their little children Ganesh and Murugan or Kartikeya. Narada is known for always causing trouble which, however, eventually leads to something good. And this time too, he created a big nuisance by bringing only one mango.
Shiva and Parvati thought their sons wouldn’t mind sharing the fruit. But the mischievous Narada said, “This is the golden fruit of wisdom and whoever eats this mango will be granted eternal knowledge and wisdom”. “However, there is a condition to eating this fruit,” he warned. With a smirk on his face, Narada continued, “This fruit has to be eaten by only one person.” Shiva and his family were struggling to solve the problem. Shiva thought of an idea and decided that whoever first circles the world would get to have the fruit. Kartikeya was very happy and jumped onto his vehicle, a peacock, and was soon out of sight. Ganesh remained where he was with a thoughtful expression on his face.
He slowly made his way to his parents and bowed low before them. He then started circling his parents. Shiva and Parvati were perplexed. Ganesh replied, “You, my parents are my universe and my whole world. So if I circle you, it means that I have circled the entire world.” Saying this, he finished his third circle. The happy and proud parents gave the mango fruit to him.
When Murugan reached back, he was startled to look at the fruit in his brother’s hand. Feeling deceptive and angry, he left without a word and reached today’s Palani Hill, where his parents rushed to pacify him. They called him – ‘Gnana Pazham neeyappa’, which means that you yourself are a bundle of wisdom and that is the reason the hill is called Pazhani (Palani).
Karaikal Ammaiyar | காரைக்கால் அம்மையார்
Long ago, during French rule, the sea-washed Karaikal was the prime port of the Bay of Bengal. A rich and pious merchant, Danadattan, in the city, was blessed with a female child. He named her Punithavathi. She imbibed the devotional atmosphere of her natal home in her very veins and even at play she built toy temples and recited Shiva's name. As she grew up into a lovely maiden, her marriage with Paramadattan, a young and rich merchant just like her Danadattan, was solemnised.
One day Paramadattan was visited by two merchants in the way of business at his workplace. They presented him with two ripe mangoes. He sent them home for his lunch. About this time a devotee of Shiva came to Punithavathi and asked for food. Business people were known for their hospitality to the Saivaite (Shiva) devotees. She fed him well and served him one of the mangoes also. The devotee was very much satisfied and went on his way.
Punithavathi was in a dilemma. On an impulse, she prayed to Shiva and immediately a mango fell in her hands. This she served to Paramadattan. When he tasted it he was flabbergasted."Well, I don't think there is a fruit as sweet as this in all three worlds. Are you sure this was the one given by the merchants? He asked his wife. Punithavathi was an image of sincerity and truth. She recounted how she had given away a mango to a hungry devotee. When Paramadattan had asked for it, she had simply gone into the kitchen and prayed to Shiva. His grace was flown into her hands as the ripe mango.
Paramadattan was a complete materialist and could not believe in miracles. He thought his wife must be weaving a tell-tale to hide some misdemeanour. “The Lord gave you the mango? If so, then prove it! Get me another magic mango!" he said without any thought. Faced with an unexpected ordeal, yet sure of her faith in Shiva's grace, Punithavathi began praying to the Lord. When did the Lord fail his true devotee? Sure enough, a third mango - fresh, ripe, uncut - appeared on Punithavathis's hands. Calmly she went forward and placed the fruit in Paramadattan's hands. As the mango touched his hands, it vanished. Paramadattan was frightened. He thought Punithavathi was a divine being and that he should not approach her. So he left home at once.
When the parents came to know what had happened, they took Punithavathi to where her husband was. As soon as he saw her, he fell at her feet saying that she was a divine woman and that he did not deserve her. Coming to know her husband’s plight, Punithavathi prayed to Shiva to rid her of the youthful and lovely body so that she could spend the rest of her life undisturbed worshipping him. Lord Shiva realised her well-meaning need in a world which generally tends to desecrate physical beauty, and thus granted her wish and soon she was transformed into a crone. But it was as if all her beauty was channelised into her devotional hymns, the verses certainly surpassing all forms of physical beauty.
She was the first Tamil devotional poet and composed beautiful hymns on Lord Shiva. She created a new genre called Andhadhi in Tamil where the last word in the first stanza is the first word in the second stanza. Her name and fame spread far and wide. Even now many temples in Tamil Nadu and South East Asia could be seen where her portraits are displayed. Tamils established a Hindu Empire in South East Asia 1800 years ago and Gangaikonda Chozapuram in Tamil Nadu has a beautiful, smiling Nataraja statue with Karaikal Ammaiyar praying to him.
The Conclusion
The first story about mango created one of the six famous abodes of Murugan or Kartikeya in Tamil Nadu. The place is filled with people from different places during festivals and festivities. The second story of the fruit created a new set of devotional poems called Panniru Thirumurai containing 18000 poems. After the Sangam period, a big devotional movement changed the picture of the entire Tamil Nadu starting from the days of Karaikal Ammaiyar. It is compared to the big Bhakti movements in Maharashtra with Nivrutti, Gnanadev, Sopana, Muktabhai, Eknath, Namdev, Tukaram and Samartha Ramdas.
NOTE: The above text was researched and written by a Milaap fellow in the summer of 2019, following an interaction with localities of a small district in Tamil Nadu, as part of the fellowship programme which was run by the organization between 2014 and 2019.
***
KRISHNA BASU | Aamer tulya koi? (Is there another fruit like mango?) | আমের তূল্য কই?
আমের তূল্য কই?
Is there another fruit like mango?
আমের মতন রসাল ফল আর কোথায় আছে?
Where would you even find another fruit as juicy as mango?
আকূল জিহ্বা ঘুরে বেড়ায় আমের কাছে কাছে।
Eager tongues hover around the majestic mango
শ্রেষ্ঠ ফলের মান্যতা দাও এই ফলকে তুমি।
One must recognise mango with the status of the Fruit Supremo
এই ফলই ঘিরে আমার বংগভুমি
This fruit is the essence of my Bengal
সুস্বাদু সুপেয় আম হৃদয়ে জুরে নাচে।
Delicious, succulent mangoes make my heart skip a beat
কই? ভুলি না হৃদয়খানা আমের গন্ধের কাছে।
I don't lose my heart to the intoxicating smell of mangoes
সব ফলেরই শীরস নাম, রাখো একে মাথায়।
The one bestowed with the highest honour among fruits, don't forget to remember this one.
আমের আচার, আমের তেল, এর তূলনা কেউ?
Is there anything remotely comparable to mango pickle and mango oil?
আমের রসের বিভোর হ'য়ে রই
I'm intoxicated by the smell and (juiciness) taste of mangoes
বিশ্বে মানুশ ভোজন লোভী এই ফলকে চায়
Every food connoisseur around the world wants a piece of the King of Fruits
দেশজোড়া এই ফলের খ্যাতি ভারত ছেড়ে যায়।
Such is the greatness of mangoes, that's it is revered in countries far and wide
আমের তূল্য সুস্বাদু ফল কয়টা আছে বলো?
How many fruits can be compared to this delicious fruit?
আমের লোভে ভিতর বাহির করছে ছলছল।
The desire to devour mangoes thrills my entire being.
***
JOHN AGARD | English Girl Eats Her First Mango
If I did tell she
hold this gold
of sundizzy
tonguelicking juicy
mouthwater flow
ripe with love
from the tropics
she woulda tell me
trust you to be
melodramatic
so I just say
taste this mango
and I watch she hold
the smooth cheeks
of the mango
blushing yellow
and a glow
rush to she own cheeks
and she ask me
what do I know
just bite into it?
and I was tempted
to tell she
why not be a devil
and eat of the skin
of the original sin
but she woulda tell me
trust you to be
mysterious
so I would just say
it’s up to you
if you want to peel it
and I watch she feels it
as something precious
then she smile and say
looks delicious
and I tell she
don’t waste sweet words
when she sweetness
in your hand
just bite it man
peel it with the teeth
that God gave you
or better yet
do like me mother
used to do
and squeeze
till the flesh
turns syrup
nibble a hole
then suck the gold
like bubby
in child mouth
squeeze and tease out
every drop of spice
sounds nice
me friend tell me
and I remind she that ain’t
apple core
so don’t forget
the seed
suck that too
the sweetest part
the juice does run
down to your heart
man if you see
the English rose
she face was bliss
down to the pink
of she toes
and when she finish
she smile
and turn to me
lend me your hanky
my fingers are all sticky
with mango juice
and I had to tell she
what hanky
you talking about
you don’t know
when you eat mango
you hanky
is you tongue
man just lick
your finger
you call that
culture
unless you prefer
to call it
colonization
in reverse
***
VANDANA BHASIN | Mango: A Divinity
A ‘super fruit’, ‘king of the fruits’ or the ‘national fruit’
Whatever high honour you accord to this succulent drupe
No vanity or bitterness can touch its roots
For it’s the sweetest gift of the evergreen Mangifera indica
Five thousand years ago, grown in India
Oh what sugary ambrosial childhood memories
Plucking the divine fruit dangling enticingly from its branches
A small incision at the top and squeezing the fruit gently to suck its nectar, deliciously
What a heavenly feeling when the sweetness sanctifies your tongue
You even lick the juice that trickles down your wrist
Pieces cut in fine shape or blend it into a smoothie
Pickle, jam, juice, cakes, ice cream, desserts or lassi
Relish it in as many ways, to grow your culinary skills
There’s no dearth of mangoes on Earth,
There are more than a thousand varieties
Yes, a thousand; you heard me right
And when you’ll listen to the names, you’ll crave for a bite
Dasahari. Langra, Chausa, Alphonso
Kesar, Totapuri, Neelam, Amrapali
Ataulfo, Haden, Kent and Tommy Atkins - Oh, what a wide variety!
Exotic and delectable with hues of yellow, orange and green
The luscious fruit incited even Lord Buddha under its tree
Rich in vitamins- A, B, C, K, potassium and Folate
The curvaceous figure ‘aam’, as called in Hindi
An antioxidant that lowers cholesterol and boosts immunity
The royal fruit allured emperors and kings
And even inspired the great bards of poetry
When legendary poet Mirza Ghalib,
Wrote dar sifat-e-ambaah, to glorify its allure
And called mango, a delicious wine from heaven above
Ah! My wait for mangoes is over, as summer is finally here
And yes, mango is sacred; don’t disgrace it by throwing it at someone!
***
SAGHAR KHAYYAMI | aamon ka sehra | आमों का सेहरा
जो आम में है वो लब ए शीरीं में नहीं रस
What is in mango, isn't in the lips of the beloved
रेशों में हैं जो शेख की दाढ़ी से मुक़द्दस
Its silken threads are purer than a saint's beard,
आते हैं नज़र आम, तो जाते हैं बदन कस
When mangoes catch the eye, bodies tense and clasp,
लंगड़े भी चले जाते हैं, खाने को बनारस
Even the limping find strength, to Benaras they amass.
होटों में हसीनों के जो, अमरस का मज़ा है
In the lips of beauties, lies the joy of ambrosia's delight,
ये फल किसी आशिक की, मोहब्बत का सिला है
This fruit is the reward of a lover's affectionate ties.
आमद से दसहरी की है, मंडी में दस्हेरा
With the arrival of Dasahari, the festival's flair does soar,
हर आम नज़र आता है, माशूक़ का चेहरा
Every mango reflects the visage of the beloved, for sure.
एक रंग में हल्का है, तो एक रंग में गहरा
Some are light in hue, while some are deeply tinted,
कह डाला क़सीदे के एवज़, आम का सेहरा
Reciting an ode, the mango's charm is thus presented.
खालिक को है मक़सूद, के मख्लूक़ मज़ा ले
The Creator's intention is that creation should delight,
वो चीज़ बना दी है के बुड्ढा भी चबा ले
Something has been created that even the old should savour.
फल कोई ज़माने में नहीं, आम से बेहतर
No fruit is superior to the mango in this world's domain,
करता है सना आम की, ग़ालिब सा सुखनवर
Even as eloquent as Ghalib, its praise they proclaim.
इकबाल का एक शेर, कसीदे के बराबर
A verse by Iqbal, a treasure beyond measure,
छिलकों पा भिनक लेते हैं , साग़र से फटीचर
While a worthless Saghar, marvels at mango peel's simple pleasure.
वो लोग जो आमों का मज़ा, पाए हुए हैं
Those who have savored the delight of mangoes,
बौर आने से पहले ही, वो बौराए हुए हैं
Are already intoxicated, even before the madness sets in.
नफरत है जिसे आम से वो शख्स है बीमार
The one who dislikes mangoes is indeed unwell,
लेते है शकर आम से अक्सर लब ओ रुखसार
Yet the beautiful often borrow their lips' sweetness from mango's spell.
आमों की बनावट में है, मुज़मर तेरा दीदार
In the mango's form, I find a reflection of your grace so fair,
बाजू वो दसहरी से, वो केरी से लब ए यार
Your arms akin to Dasahari, lips like Keri, beyond compare.
हैं जाम ओ सुबू खुम कहाँ आँखों से मुशाबे
Where are the goblet and the cup, compared to your eyes so bright,
आँखें तो हैं बस आम की फांकों से मुशाबे
Eyes that are but slices of mango, in their radiant light.
क्या बात है आमों की हों देसी या विदेसी
What a marvel are mangoes, whether native or foreign they hail,
सुर्खे हों सरौली हों की तुख्मी हों की कलमी
Be they Surkhi or Sarauli, Tukhmi or Kalmi,
चौसे हों सफैदे हों की खजरी हों की फजरी
Chaunsa or Safeda, Khajri or Fajri,
एक तरफ़ा क़यामत है मगर आम दसहरी
But among them all, sits on the throne the ethereal Dasahari.
फिरदौस में गंदुम के एवज़ आम जो खाते
In Paradise, had Adam consumed mangoes instead of wheat as his fare,
आदम कभी जन्नत से निकाले नहीं जाते
Expulsion from heavens might have been a fate he wouldn't bear.
- Munawwar Rana
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