[The
charming story of school kids invading a mango grove to steal the raw mangoes]
It was the
year 1983 and then I was a student of Class 7th of the historic
Prithiviraj High School of Balangir, Odisha. Though I used to be a below
average student in studies, but was always loyal and obedient either to the teachers
at school or the parents at home. It was the month of April and the summer
holidays has just begin. Unlike the present generation of kids, during the 80’s
of the last Century we did not had many options to play games. There were no
video games, cell phones, tabs, computers or lap tops to play electronic games.
We had to resort to play outdoor games only, that involve physical movements. But
we the kids did not used to have much sports equipments be it either a
football, cricket bat or badminton racket to play, since most of my friends
were from the poor families. Our parents were keeping a strict vigil on our
movements as during the noon hours of April and May in Western Odisha the
temperature surpass 45 (°C)
degree Celsius. They did not wanted us to be victims of summer heat stroke.
We were a gang
of around eight friends who were always playing together. One of my close compatriots
whom I calls as Marsad proposed to invade the mango grove that exist on the
Sonepur road. We planned to raid the grove at noon hours when our mothers would
go to sleep after partaking lunch. Out of the eight only four of us had cycles.
I agreed to take a friend along in my bicycle with the condition, he has to pedal
the cycle while I will seat on the front beam. On the state high way we raid
our bicycles. The road was empty because of the summer heat. In those years
vehicular traffic was scanty, because people did not used to have personal
vehicles. My Marsad instructed us to park the cycles behind a bush and to walk
final lap silently without causing any noise. And we just followed his
instructions cautiously. Finally we reached our destination.
It looked something
like a forest. There were as many as twelve to fifteen trees bearing raw
mangos. We were about to invade the mangrove as if dacoits, but our gang leader
Marsad halted us. He raised his hands and asked us to seat on the ground. We
followed his instructions obediently. He said there is an old watchman who is guarding
this mango garden. If he catches any of you, than he will rupture your bones into
pieces with the thenga (thick stick) that he carries. He choosed three out
of us to lead the mission. He said Mankad, Hanu and himself will climb to the
top of the trees to pluck the mangoes. While Deba, Luku and myself will stand
at the bottom of each tree to gather the fruits. And the rest two will be
vigilant on the outskirt. And these two boys have been entrusted with the most
important job. When they notice the watchman coming they will raise the alarm to
the tune of a cuckoo bird saying “koooo……..koooo……..koooo”.
I followed
Hanu to the garden. He choose a massive tree and halted before it. He removed
his sleepers and touched the trunk of the tree and folded his both hands while
closing his eyes. With his head he touched the tree. He paid his obeisance to
the tree so as he should not fall accidentally from the top. Then he looked
towards me. I raised my both hands to say be careful. With articulate movements
of his limbs in half a minute he climbed the tree. While standing on the tree
he located the branches of the tree that carry fruits. He went to one edge and
plucked a few raw mangoes and started filling his knicker pockets. Then I
spotted him biting a mango and eating it. I lost my temper. I raised my voice
saying “kshhh…..kshhh……….”. Hanu looked towards me. With my hands I instructed
him to throw one mango. Instantly he threw one raw mango. With much pleasure I
picked the mango, but was disappointed to find it was bitten by Hanu. In a
vulgar language I said “sala mankad (monkey) you are giving me a bitten
fruit”. I asked him to get down so as I would climb the tree. But he laughed
saying, one who sleep on the lap of luxury of an air cooler at night can never climb
a mango tree during the day. I threw the raw mango back at him. But it missed
its target and fell back on the ground. Hanu laughed at me. I was getting
impatient. He dropped yet another mango. I was reluctant to lift the second
mango, but he said it’s a good one. I believed on the voice with which he said
and went to lift it. It was comparatively a bigger green mango. From the pocket
of my knicker I took out the salt rolled in a news paper piece that I carried
from home. While dripping in the salt I eat that mango. It was so sour in
taste. I shouted back at Hanu. He said the most sour raw mango turn out to be
the sweetest when ripen. I asked, does that mean I have to wait in this humid
weather until the mangoes ripe. He said,
go to the grocery store and buy “aam papdi”.
While I was
relishing the raw mango Hanu screamed from the tree. I thought it to be yet
another prank of this notorious kid. I asked him not to raise the voice, the
watchman would come and catch us. But when I looked upward Hanu was moving
further towards the edge of the branch while shivering and stammering. I
noticed a monkey was approaching him. I shouted from the ground, “a mankad ja
bhag, a mankad ja bhag” (hey monkey you get lost). But it kept moving
forward. Hurriedly I picked a rock from
the ground and threw towards the monkey, but it missed it’s target. It was non
of the fault of the monkey, rather we invaded his territory. While shivering
and moving backward the leg of Hanu skidded from the branch of the tree and he
crash landed on the ground from a height of around 15 feets. I rushed to the
spot to lift him. He was crying while saying “a Maa go, a Maa go” (Oh
mother ! Oh mother). Other friends also gathered. Hanu was crying insistently
while checking his left hand. We made him seat on the cycle and returned to our
street. First we went to drop Hanu at his home and we all returned to our
respective homes.
At late
evening when I went to street to play, I found Hanu was walking bare body while
his hand was striped in a white bandage. I went to ask his wellbeing. His
younger brother said Hanu’s left hand has been fractured, because he fell while
riding the cycle. I looked towards Hanu with concern and he smiled back at me. I
asked him in which grocery store I can buy the aam papdi ? He said buying a pack of aam papdi with the stolen money is easier
than stealing mangoes from a garden.
WhatsApp# +918249314972
C/o.Dr.E.R.Rao (MD)
Tehsil Chowk,
At/PO. BARPALI – 768 029
Dist. Bargarh, Orissa, India
I remembered my old days. Stolen mangoes are too much tasty than the mangoes u purchased from the market. May it be from the same tree.
ReplyDeleteI am very happy to read your mango mania story, because it remind me of my childhood act of mango theft. Its a charming story of adventures that children in any Indian villages undertake. But you as a writer able to showcase in words. Just Great
ReplyDeleteThat is a great narration
ReplyDeleteYour story nicely describes summer vacation adventures in our childhood.
ReplyDeleteThis is such cute and adorable story. But I wonder why the growers of those trees did not know children will love mangoes and just keep some aside to share with them rather than have them go thru such pains. LOLOL. On the other hand, childhood would be no fun without these adventures. :D So much fun to read and feel like I am living it with you and your friends. Thank u for sharing, my friend. <3 Love, Liz Kinley
ReplyDeleteAll great memories keep us living.
ReplyDeleteMango still forms a story.
Marvelous.
But be cautious.
Fracture...