Sitapur, UP. But, seriously, this is no grapevine! 😆
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My earlier stints in UP in the early 1980s did have some minor interface with grape vines in our yard. In Meerut city, where we had our study house on a 5-cent plot, we did grow vines, but don't recall them bearing fruit. In the late 80s, pursuing UG programme (degree course of the pre-NEP/OBE era) staying in the real rural St John's ashram, I recall our neighbouring station in Najibabad, with the famous St. Mary's school attached to it, had a few vines. I noticed them fruiting, with the bunches not getting ripe all at a time, a few odd ones becoming ripe, tolerably sour-sweet, and the rest remaining extremely sour, fit for pickle. Early 90s, during my yearlong stay at the Bishop's house, Kotdwar, the dwar to the Himalayan Hills of Garhwal, there was a fairly well-maintained plot of vines, which did yield annually, and I believe it did while I was there as well. But it didn't appeal to me much in those days.
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(In my younger days, Ammachi tended to a grapevine in our backyard, bordering the wall that separated our yard from that of Mathai chettan our beloved and simultaneously bellicose neighbour. It was brought by our aunt Aetty of the Daughters of the Heart of Mary, who brought one or two cuttings from her friend's place or from her convent, on one of her vacations. It grew well. It was said that it should be nourished with blood, and the weekly purchase of meat, provided it some bit of it, with the water used for washing the meat being given to it. It did bear fruit - 2 or 3 small bunches. I am afraid my vigorous and athletic younger brother, who is now a very senior Gastroenterologist, tasted it and that was perhaps the end of it. Perhaps, I got it wrong. I don't recall it having borne fruit again. I regret we don't have a single picture of the plant or its fruits - unthinkable for those days. However my schoolmate Paul N. V.* in Konthuruthy - the hamlet lying across the infamous black dark Thevara thodu - grew a vine during his 'gruhastha ashram' and it grew so well, to bear abundant fruits of beautiful violet grapes. I witnessed it when I visited with him almost 2 decades later. I learnt that in spite of it being such a sport, he wrote a death warrant for it, apparently getting the feeling that the vine was a nuisance for the modern terraced home.)
Now, as I spend my first year in UP after a break of over 30 years, at Sitapur, our campus provides a good learning opportunity for all such observations. We have 11 plants - around 10 year old. Fr John Chakkanat, one of the enthu former managers is said to have introduced them. They are planted in two rows parallel to the chapel of our residence on its western side. By November they appear weak and leaves even fall down and by December they present themselves naked. Our administrator manages to tend his 'nursery' beneath the vines which are supported by a rectangular frame (15 x 4 m) made out of used metal pipes and steel rods (some reuse principle is applied!).
By January, they were pruned with the assistance of our gardner Sathish, though I am sceptical about the technical correctness of the timing and method employed. By the end of Feb, beginning of March, they were sprouting, with olive green leaves showing up, and in no time spreading and almost simultaneously gathering tiny bunches of flower buds. In a week's time, the frame is again covered, the tender green turns into a darker shade, and buds bloom almost imperceptibly. A couple of days showed tremendous activity with colonies of wild bees buzzing around non-stop, serving themselves, the plants and the planet - a very symbiotic community. Then as weeks go by the flowers give way to tiny bulbs, which swell and take a spherical shape.
By mid-May, they are inviting any number of planeters to take part of the feast they have spread - formidable among them - squirrels and red-whiskered bulbuls, at least a dozen each. There are occasional visitors from other avians - crow pheasant, tailor bird, sunbird and barbet. I don't see much of crows or pigeons or mynahs coming after the grapes.
It's only a matter of a week, at the most, 10 days, and if not harvested, they fall down and then the task apparently is left to the bulbuls and the bees. I thought bees would feed only on flowers. No. They pierce the ripe fruits with their sting and then feed on the syrup that trickles out - as I understand for their colony, for the next generation, and for the planet (most likely without intending that)! But they have no ego issues in this - even the half-eaten fruits left over by the bigger avians are good enough for them to do their collection, about which they go in a no-nonsense kind of rigour. If they sense the humans gathering the second or third crop are interfering with their task, they have no qualms about deploying the lethal weapon at their disposal.
The grapes gone, the vines, with their support frame, turn into a cool shade in the crazy summer when Brother Sun goes about his business in a born-tough manner! He is awake at 4.45 am and indulges in his tasks with a great amount of playfulness well past 7 pm in the evening. The initiators of the plants do find the area a cool shade, it also serves well for the nursery as a grooming ground for the ongoing green agenda of the campus, including the bio-bouquets.
I am yet to learn about the grape variety we were feasting on in the past week. It is said that there were 2 types, however, when we gathered the fruits, we could hardly make any distinction. Did the minority get assimilated or coopted? I don't know. I can't say that they are a top-quality grape. Perhaps, sufficient water was not given during the time of flowering and subsequent fruitin season, the fruits were small. The skin (epidermis) was soft enough to be chewed, and not rubbery - but not as crispy-soft as the modern-day hybrid seedless black or green grapes - these have the skin firmer. There was hardly any seed, though occasionally you found one or 2 in a few, which could easily be gulped down.
Almost half a quintal of them have been mercilessly crushed in the home-designed winery and crusher under the guidance of my confrere Austin Thenkudam (lit - a pot of honey). We expect white wine to emerge - white or sparkling? Our grapes being green, less likely that our wine will emerge red, though it is told that with the required mix even white grapes can produce red wine (why not, if water can be turned into wine!). Some bunches did reach our friends and benefactors in the neighbourhood - the nuns of BCM hospital, those on the campus, the parish priest, some of the staff members who were on summer vacation duty.
Had I my way, I would have tried a hand at getting some of the grapes transformed into jam or juice or chutney - I tried my luck with the Horticultural department which is supposed to provide such services to the people. Yes, they could do that - but now they are all busy with the duties related to the great Indian festival - the national elections. They would look into it, once the elections are over. But grapes can't wait. They will ripe and fall and dry.
Perhaps next time! Hope there is another year, better care, and a better harvest.
We should feel grateful that the otherwise indiscriminately destructive 'vanar sena' was not found around this time, and that our grapes were spared and we too, the task of warding them off. But above all, I am grateful that for the first time perhaps in life, we had grapes at our disposal, with a guarantee that no insecticide - chemical or organic - was applied.
So that was 'Draaksha Jigyaasa' for 2024!
