Page 26 - Seniorstoday May 2022 Issue

Contrastingly, my childhood summer larger cosmic design and purpose.
vacations were about going down south
to ‘hotter-than-Bombay (before it was
renamed ) places like Karur, Salem, Erode,
Madras (now Chennai – everyone wants
to change names, but not transform) to
spend time with various relatives. The
travels were invariably by booked-months-
in-advance-seats in 3rd class trains. On
reaching the destination, the ride from the
station to homes was invariably by horse or
cattle carts, which were a thrill and a joy of
a different kind. No fancy air-conditioned
transportation. An anachronism maybe
today, but unforgettable rides.
Travels down south by trains. Representative picture and even tone, who used to come to our
Those hoary vacations to ‘native places’
were experiences of a different kind. They
were more about bonding, storytelling and
learning of a different kind.
Today, if it is summer, people rush to
cooler places. If it is winter, they horde
to warmer places. If it is monsoon, they
travel to dryer places. If it is plains, they
go to hills and if it is the hills, they come
down to earth. This exhibits a behavioural
tendency to escape nature due to perceived
hardships of inclement climes. The
abundance of seasons and atmosphere
is nature’s design for the well-being of
humans and is meant to be experienced
in all its pleasant and not-so-pleasant
manifestations. Most are indifferent to this
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The seasonal fruits of the past are now
available through the year, thanks to
technology and modern farming and
grafting methods. Take for example,
mangoes. Earlier, one used to salivate and
wait for the king of fruits to be available
in the peak of summer between March
and May each year. It is now available
practically from January onwards, much
before the onset of the real summer. The
taste and flavour have obviously taken a
beating, as any connoisseur will tell you.
I remember my parents buying Alphonso
mangoes in April , when the prime crop
start arriving, in crates of five dozen each.
It used to be stored and stacked neatly, so
that the siblings could pick and choose (
and many times fight too ) the best ones
and finish them off slurplingly. In the late
60s and early 70s, it used to be available,
hold your breath, at Rs 15 per dozen, which
used to be bargained down to Rs 12 per
dozen. I still remember clearly the tall
Afghan seller with a smiling countenance
home regularly and supply us with the best
mangoes. He was extraordinarily reliable
and trustworthy and used to replenish the
stock through the summer season. By the
way, the same Afghan (he must be in his
early eighties now ) still supplies mangoes
to some of our family members.
Talking of mangoes, there is an interesting
story about how hapus (or a variety of
mangoes) got famous the world over.
It seems a Parsi by the name of Framji
Cowasji Banaji had leased out thousands
of acres of land in Powai area of Mumbai,
from the British in the 1820s and planted
lakhs of mango trees leading to rich harvest.
Obviously with an intent to monetise his
fields, he wanted to export the mangoes to