Mango Days in Sitapur - And some health-wealth experiences!

Back to Dasheri days

It was mango season at its peak.  (Incidentally, July 22, the date on which I decided to make these notes, is Mango Day!) The whole of Sitapur region appeared to me like one mango orchard stretched out on the two sides of the Lucknow - Bareilly highway which passes through Sitapur.  And being the season, there are vendors on the highway, in front of each of these orchards, with fresh mangoes for sale.  The season is that of 'Dasheri', which happens to be one of the top favourites in this belt - and for good reason.  Some say Dasheri is from 'das' which means 10 days, and the harvest season would be just about 10 days.  I never noticed this before, and felt that the season lasted for at least a month.  Anyway, that prompted me to look up - and I found to my surprise that Dasheri happens to be one of the 15 GI status mangoes of India, and it is said to have originated from the Dasheri village of Malihabad, just 25 kilometres away from the UP capital Lucknow, and the 200–300-year-old, mother tree is said to be still there in the grove.  (Now that becomes my natural next agenda on my next visit, DV, to that region!).  To my great disappointment, I found that the big-mouthed Kerala had not even a single species in the list, whereas UP had 2 other - Malihabad Dasheri and Langra.  I would have suggested Chandrakkaran and Prior for the status. (Neelam & Malgova are already there in the list with Tamil Nādu having the credits). Perhaps, I would make an effort. But all these stand dwarfed in looks, flavour and taste, when compared to Dasheri! It is said to be the mother of the present time popular brands of Mallika and Amrapali. Stories around how this was an exclusive possession of the Nawab of Lucknow, who wouldn't even let a seed go out of the orchard, jealously guarding it as a monopoly etc. are legends by now.  Somehow, one seed or a few escaped the rigid security - perhaps, by birds, and it was propagated. 

I recall that in 1991, as I arrived at Dharmaram Vidya Kshetram for my B. Th programme, almost a month after the session began, on account of the delayed final year BA exams of Bareilly university, I had carried a box of Dasheri for my section.  I don't know how far they relished it, or realised its significance.  In those days, when I was a college student, being at the bishop's house where mangoes came from all corners as gifts, I would feed myself exclusively on them. 

I felt the variety used to be available for a stretch of almost one month, starting July till the end of the month or even beginning of August. Then would arrive chausa, which is still more fleshy and sweet, and could be treated as the King. But I have great preference for Dasheri - they come in all sizes from 3 inches in length to 6 inches at times, and appearing longish-oval like a bottle. The peel (epicarp) is rather thick, with a waxy leathery pliability.  The ideal way of relishing Dasheri is to gently squeeze the flesh (mesocarp) into a pulp not letting the peel break.  When you feel that it is all set and almost liquid-like, you gently pierce the pedicel part, squeeze a few drops out to get rid of the acid content usually found in that region, and then just gently suck the liquid pulp, while supporting the process by squeezing the mango as and when required to let the whole of pulp out through the hole at the stalk.  If the mango is good, and you can do your job well, only the skin and the stone (endocarp) will remain.  If the mango is overripe or if you are bit too greedy to get the stuff out, then the peel may break and it can become a little messy, as typically it might happen with this age-old practice with mangoes.  However, with some care, Dasheri can give you the experience of the most naturally bottled mango juice! 

It was just about Rs. 30.00 per kilo and my friendly neighbour and the present superior of the Sacred Heart Monastery at Sitapur, had already bought about 5 kilos of mangoes - claiming to be daal ke pakke (ripened on the stalk)! That claim is indicator of the freshness of the mangoes and that no artificial method was used to ripen them.  In spite of 3 decades between my last encounter with Dasheri (1991), I could recognize that they were not daal ke pakke (ripened on the stalk)! And the inner coloration of the pulp revealed that some chemical (Calcium carbonate?) had been used to get the mango to claim the status of ripened.  Still, they were tolerably sweet. And no one bothered about the chemicals.  If that were to be a botheration, you could not perhaps have any mangoes in UP.  In spite of the region being rural and agricultural, there could hardly be any claim regarding the delicious mangoes being organic - perhaps, they are safe to eat. 

The orchards are taken on contract by vendors in advance ensuring that watering happens in time. They spray a round or two of chemicals prior to inflorescence so as to prevent the attack of insects.  Then there is some hormone spray that would happen immediately after the trees are on flower - this is perhaps to ensure that pollination happens well.  Some may do another round of spray to prevent the entry or attack of insects. 

Usually, the family that has taken the contract camps in the orchard, in the open.  Parents and children taking turns.  Cooking, eating, sleeping in the open in the orchard - probably the children not having to go to school as the summer vacation is on, or perhaps they don't go at all.  They ward off the orchard from theft by humans (rare) and by other beings - especially the vanarsena.  They come in hordes and not just eat, but really destroy the fruits, unless they taste the pain of being there. For the farmer, they are a real menace, and they get emboldened day by day, and even turn aggressive at times, if someone walks in their direction alone.  But they are also able to sense the difference between the strong ones and week ones, and women are generally more prone to be taken easy in their raids of gardens and homes.

Anyways, for the 10 odd days, I spent at Sitapur, I feasted on mangoes - relishing four to five mangoes each for lunch and dinner, with just nominal intake of any other food. 

Dasheri - Sitapur to Doha (via Delhi)

I thought of taking some mangoes for our admin leadership team and the Sitapur team gladly procured some varieties of mangoes which included Dasheri, Chausa and some Kalmi (so they claimed).  They were procured from some wayside vendors in the neighbouring village.  I had hardly any other thing to carry than my laptop, one pair of dress and the mangoes.  So, I thought it would be fine. The 100 odd kilometres to the airport presented mango vendors all through on both sides of the four-lane high way, temptingly inviting, and with very affordable price.  But could in no way accommodate. I reached airport well in time for the Vistara flight.  The check-in showed that I had half a kilo excess baggage and I told I could very well adjust that, but they said it was ok. 

The next day, early morning I left for Delhi airport from our residence at Harinagar by an uber taxi, very affordably priced at Rs. 250.00 (I could recall times when we had to spend around Rs. 1000 in the pre-gas era of Delhi to reach the airport). At the check in desk, I was in for a shock treatment with the young check-in officer being very curt and strict, announcing that my ticket does not permit any check-in baggage, but just 7 kilos of cabin baggage! That was a crude shock! The after-effects of going for cheap flights! It was Oman Air - the flight to Delhi did permit 30 kilos, and it never struck me that the flight back was indicating no baggage allowed.  It had never occurred to me that such international flights could be there, or that I should have looked for such catches while going for a cheap ticket! All my dreams of taking the precious mangoes to our friends there getting shattered in a moment. Then I thought: Anyway, I have gained some Rs. 10000.00 by using this ticket.  Why not think of paying the extra for the baggage.  So, I ask the agent, how much would the luggage cost.  He made some calculations and mumbled 12, and I assumed, perhaps, 1200.  I was willing to give it a try, even if it were some 3 to 4 thousand!  But then he clarified 12000.00 minimum! baap re!  I made a quick assessment and found that with that I could purchase a whole of set of trolley bags and several kilos of premium mangoes in Qatar! 

As he was not budging or showing any indication of being helpful, I stepped outside the queue.  Took the mangoes out.  The precious chausa had already become overripened, and were showing the signs of damage.  I removed the carry-bag packs of  chausa and kalmi, and merged whatever Dasheri was available into one single pack and christened it my food pack! Asked if the porters would like to have them.  They indicated that I could leave them there, and they would take at their ease. 

Then I went back to the queue.  The young strict officer was still wearing his unsympathetic mien, but it appeared to me that he was just trying to make things official. He asked if I had check in baggage, I said no. He asked my bag to be weighed - it was only 6 kilos plus! Great relief. I mumbled that I had a food package - but he didn't seem to pay attention.  Besides, I was having my lap-top bag, my pouch, my shoulder bag with documents and money - but all those attached to my person, not requiring separate space, though the mango pack was still more than 5 kilos.  He cleared me, issued the boarding passes and I moved away from the area.  Put the mango pack back into the trolley bag and pushed off. No more of scrutiny regarding its weight either at the security or at the entry into the flight, though he himself was there to check the boarding passes, and seeing my bag, bit oversized for the cabin luggage could have asked for a verification or weight.  But that was not to be. 

Again, there was another set of checking by the airways just prior to the door of entry.  And I observed a discrimination with those who had a typical appearance of labour class youth were being asked to open their baggage, whereas elderly like me, were let go without any such scrutiny. 

On arrival, of the dozen or more of the precious Dasheris, I found 3 or 4 partly damaged on account of lack of proper packing.  The rest were okay.  I could still share some of them with the admin leaders and with fellow CMI Fr Joshy. 

But, oh boy!! a well ripened Dasheri - either peeled and sliced and slightly chilled, or pressed - squeezed and sucked in the most natural way - is a treat, nay, a rare rare blessing! Indeed, heavenly sweet, and something I cherish as an affordable, natural delicacy. 

This had been the best blessing on the food-fruit front in a matter of 30 years! And I feel immensely grateful!

A Tragedy as a Tail end

I was received and dropped back by our driver Boniface, who was always seen wearing a mask. Though originally from Jharkhand, he had been with the college from the beginning.  Later, I learnt that he was a cancer survivor, and his face had depressions from cancer treatment which forced him to use the mask always.  But he was enthusiastic and smart. I was surprised to see him drink an energy drink cost Rs. 125, when we, the supposed to be bosses, were drinking tea worth Rs. 10.00.  Then Fr. Johny revealed the cause that he couldn't use hot or spicy drinks, and hence had to go for some substitutes. 

On the return trip he was enthusiastically pointing out to the various features, institutions etc. enroute, including the famous 'aam mandi' of Lucknow. It is really huge with mangoes coming from all directions.  He dropped me and returned with Fr. Saji. 

Later, at night in Delhi, I receive a call from Saji, that Boniface had a stroke while arriving back, almost half a kilometre away from the institute.  Saji observed that the vehicle was not in control, was likely to crash, and he found him in trouble. Somehow, he snatched the steering wheel, and managed to pull the vehicle to a halt, only to find the driving already collapsing.  The hospital was not far away, and he was directly taken there by Fr Saji.  (It was indeed a great miracle and presence of mind of Fr Saji that averted a fatal accident).  The doctors felt that it was a lost case, but they shifted him without delay to the medical college Lucknow, where he struggled for a few hours, and departed for good. It was told that even if he had survived, it would have been basically a vegetable life, with no ability to respond or move around!  A very unexpected and sad end.  He was just in his mid-forties, survived by his wife and kids.  He had managed to secure a home for himself in Sitapur.  They took him back to his ancestral land, the very same night, to Jharkhand, where he was buried.  May he rest in peace!