CREATIVE NONFICTION
Mangoes, Pickled
A Seasonal Delicacy
If one were to go to a market in Mumbai, in December, one would see an unforgettable sight. We have seasonal markets. All fruits and vegetables are not available all year round, and most fruits and vegetables are freshly picked and sold in marketplaces open to the sky.
December is the month, and season for raw mangoes. The vegetable and fruit sellers squat on little wooden stools, or woven, handmade seats. And you see nothing but mangoes. The air is full of the sharp, acid-tangy smell of raw-cut mangoes, with the sap still present on their stalks.
In December, we housewives create raw mango pickles, chutneys, squashes, and appetizers, to last us a year.
We reach our regular mango seller early in the morning, and we sit down on the mat that the seller has already laid out for us. Because this is going to take some time.
We touch and turn over the mangoes, sniff them, and ask questions about them, and then we select about five to ten kilos of them. The mangoes are weighed, and then we tell the mango seller exactly how we want them cut. Big pieces, smaller bite-sized pieces, or grated mangoes, for chutney, chunda, or murabba. The seller has all the equipment, and an assistant, ready to oblige. And then we gather them all…
