Mango Memories
When we peeled raw mangoes with clam shell peelers
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?
About the Creator
Seema Patel
Hi, I am Seema. I have been writing on the internet for 15 years. I have contributed to PubMed, Blogger, Medium, LinkedIn, Substack, and Amazon KDP.
I write about nature, health, parenting, creativity, gardening, and psychology.
Keep reading
More stories from Seema Patel and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Dryads are Calling
They say the forest by Phoenix River sings. Perhaps it is just the wind howling through the leaves, or a particular birdsong. But Percy Fisher knows better; he knows what lies in those woods, and he knows that the forest sings of his demise.
By Leigh Hooperabout 15 hours ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
What a great memory you have of your homeland. No, I never peeled a mango with a clam shell. Good job.