It was 4:55 in the afternoon. I was standing on the Fateh Ali Bridge, waiting for Rupom. Once he arrived, we’d go to our tutor’s together. As usual, the guy was running late today too. Classes start at five. That’s when my eyes fell on an elderly woman. Worn-out clothes on her body. From her appearance, it seemed she hadn’t bathed in a long time. Her hair was matted. I was observing — she was peeling a mango. After a while, she tossed the peel away and focused on the mango. Her face was full of ‘joy.’
You don’t usually see such happiness on the faces of people who wander the streets. Seeing such a smile on their face is no less significant than a cosmic event. There used to be a TV commercial about childhood memories of eating mangoes. An old man drinking mango juice, his childhood memories flooding back. He’s picking up mangoes, squeezing them and drinking the juice — nostalgia! I wonder, had the ad producer read Bibhutibhushan’s ‘Pore Paowa’? Did the story influence his work?
Anyway, back to the point. A mango is not just a fruit. A mango is a blessing. In today’s world of steel and iron, mental peace is rarely found. No matter how hard you try to smile, at a certain point, despair will say ‘Hello!’ to you. You cannot stay happy at your full potential. Yet, give a mango to a suit-and-tie-wearing man burning in corporate hell, and he’ll forget all about the world’s steel and iron. You can observe him eating the mango. If the mango tastes good, you’ll see the tiny bit of child still alive within that corporate soldier. The mango, its juice, its sweetness will occupy the space in his mind where steel and iron once resided. Without even realizing it, a smile will appear on his face. Not an artificial belly laugh. A small but authentic, gentle smile.
Eat mangoes. Mangoes make people happy. They forget their despair. They become children again.