Mango Memories

What's a mango? Besides being the most delectable of fruits, to me it is one of the Top 10 things to try in India if the season is right. What I wouldn't give to dig into a firm, juicy, Alphonso mango. Countless summers have gone by when I stood leaning over from my balcony, savoring the sweet flavor, and the cool juice trickling down my elbow ... onto the neighbor's linens hanging out to dry in the balcony downstairs.

Memories apart, the mango created headlines recently when the U.S. lifted a longstanding ban on the import of mangoes from India. Excitement ran high for natives of India in the U.S., as there was a scramble for a nibble of the Alphonso variety that hit the market with prices soaring to as much as $5 a piece.

If you are in India between March and May, don't miss a taste of this wonderful fruit. Take a trip and head out to Malihabad situated 30 km from Lucknow in the North Indian state of Uttar Pradesh. It's where traditional varieties of mangoes have been cultivated for nearly 300 years. It may be your best chance to indulge in royal tastes ... by savoring these varieties that were favored and enjoyed by the Nawabs of Lucknow.

Everybody's Bombay

I grew up in Bombay. Yet I am always at a loss of words when people ask me about the touristy spots in the city.

They: Where can we go clubbing?
I: (Scratching my head) Shrug.
They: (Visibly shocked) You mean you have never visited a pub?
I: (I open my mouth to answer, but they interject.)
They: And you claim to be a Bombayite!!!
I: Of course, I am.
They: What can we see here?
I: Well ... I have been on school picnics to the Hanging Gardens, Gateway of India, Borivili National Park, the Juhu Beach, The Jehangir Art Gallery, the museum ...
They: (Getting impatient) OK we'll get to those later. How about shopping?
I: Ummm ... Fashion Street? (I am almost afraid to mention the stretch of road in South Bombay that is crammed with export-quality rejects and imitations of those rejects. Nevertheless, people come from afar to get a good deal.)
They: We mean designer labels.
I: Not sure. But I can find out if you like. (I am eager to help.)
They: Sure. (Sniggering).

Truth is, I don't know any of the happening places that tourists are looking for in Bombay. I grew up in suburban Bombay where small family-run stores were, and still are, common. Once in a while we took the local train to Dadar where the most heavenly batata vadas (and a variety of other snacks) can be savored.

During my college years I went shopping on D.N. Road in South Bombay, frequently at Khadi Bhandar which is the government-run store that sells handloom fabric. During lunch breaks at work I would stroll over to Flora Fountain and sort through the mounds of used books--fiction, non fiction, technical, textbooks--for sale at dirt cheap prices. Sometimes, before heading home, a few friends and I would get together and walk along Marine Drive. It would rain hard during the monsoons. Umbrellas were a mere customary accessory and never kept the rain out. I can still taste the hot peanuts that vendors would sell along the way.

That was Bombay. It's called Mumbai now, but the city is still the same. It bear the scars of recent bomb blasts. Residents recall the strains of concerts against communalism. And it's pace of life is ever more than before. But it's up to you to find what fascinates you. And hold on to it for the rest of your life.

Degrees of Preservation

In the United States, property and artefacts that are 100 years old, are viewed with great curiosity. They are preserved with utmost care and labelled and displayed so that future generations can get an insight into what once was. Entire departments are set up to promote these sights: picture postcards are printed, and magnets, keychains, and other memorablia sold.

If only India would catch on.

I recently took a trip to India's western state of Gujarat. This beautiful state is known for its lively people, delicious food and vibrant fabrics. It is also home to ancient temples and historical sites.

I picked up a DK guide on Gujarat, hired a car and driver, and charted my own route. I had limited time at hand, and with Ahmedabad as my base, I set out to see the surrounding area. Roads in Ahmedabad are wonderful, smooth, and wide. Potholes have yet not invaded their surface and distances can be comfortably covered in a well-oiled and tuned vehicle.

We stepped out at Lothal. Our driver turned us around and pointed across the road to a dry patch of land. That was Lothal, where an intelligent people had once lived and flourished. The site had no fence around it, no sentinel standing guard, and nobody collecting an entry fee. We wandered about the site for a while, trying to make sense of the remains when a young man sauntered towards us. He was the local guide.

Our guide took charge immediately, and meticulously recreated through descriptions and explanation, the social structure and daily life of the inhabitants of Lothal. We forgave him his impunctuality in lieu of the information he imparted. Without it Lothal would seem mere dust and ruins to us.

To the right, a few hundred feet away stood a small building. This is the official government museum that houses artefacts and objects recovered from the site. They include remains of utensils, jewelry, and other items of daily use. The museum merits a visit. We were relieved to see that the museum had an entrance fee and security. There were also guards stationed at different points inside the museum, ensuring that nobody touched the display. We exited, secure in the knowledge that India's historical treasures were safe.

As we headed to our car, we saw a group of schoolchildren standing huddled to one side of the entrance to the museum. We later learned from our driver that they were awaiting punishment. They had vandalized some of the ruins at Lothal.

I rest my case with a heavy heart.