Plucking mangoes from the tree
We searched between the leaves for the biggest mangoes, using a long stick or climbing onto the strongest branch to reach them.
Mango-filled thelas on the street
Summer streets turned yellow with thelas piled high with mangoes. The vendor called out their names while everyone stopped to ask the price.
Wrapped in newspaper, waiting for them to ripen
Raw mangoes rested in a basket under old newspapers. Every morning, someone checked if they were finally ready.
A bucket full of cool mangoes
Mangoes were soaked in a bucket of water before being eaten. Somehow, waiting for them to cool made them taste even sweeter.
Pressing each mango to find the perfect one
Every mango was gently pressed and carefully smelled. Too hard meant waiting another day, while the softest one was chosen to be cut first.
Juice running down our hands
We squeezed soft mangoes, made a tiny hole at the top and drank the sweet pulp straight from the skin.
Aamras, Aam Panna made the meal special
Ripe mango pulp was squeezed into a bowl and served with hot puris. The bowl was scraped clean before the meal was over.
Raw mangoes with salt and chilli
Thin slices of kaccha aam were sprinkled with salt and red chilli. The sharp, sour first bite made everyone’s mouth water.
Saving the guthli(seed) for the end
After the slices were gone, someone always claimed the guthli(seed) and carefully ate every last bit of mango left around it.
Come back tomorrow for another beautiful memory.
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