Sanjana Saksena Chandra
Mangoes remind me of summer
suckling on the tip
like a babe to a breast
nector as satiating as a mother's milk
Sticky hands but glowing eyes
reveling in the sweetness
ignoring the mess
peeling the skin of the king
Why king I had once innocently asked
can't there be only one ruler
So many mangoes can't all be king
I never really got an answer
The mangoes came in crates
from other cities, as gifts
I could never tell the difference
to me they all tasted like summer
They brought us together
gathered around spread out newspapers
tasked to protect the marble floor from yellow stains
dripping though fingers oblivious
The mushy ones became milkshakes
the raw ones churned into chutney
dried into strips of candy or cut and pickled
whatever you fancy
Mangoes remind me of summer
but not the kind I remember
now they come to me sliced and cubed with a fork
a little less sweeter
This work has been published in Beetle Magazine's June 2020 Issue. Read the full issue here: https://issuu.com/beetlemag/docs/june2020
Illustration by Dhanashree Pimputkar