The Bombay Mango

Displayed on the table was a bowl brimming with an assortment of mangoes – Julie, East Indian, Blackie and Bombay. My eyes and hands were drawn instantly to a perfectly ripe Bombay mango. As I took it up, I noted its perfection – the green-transitioning-to-orange colour that indicates “just ready”; the special scent of ripeness; the skin blemish-free; the texture firm all round with not a soft spot to be felt indicating that this mango had been handpicked, not picked up from the ground.

I bit into the tip of the mango – the little curved point that is unique to the Bombay, and the juice softly oozed out. I peeled off the skin with my teeth, one strip at a time, after each strip gently biting into the flesh and having it melt in my mouth. I noted that this mango was juicy – but not too juicy that it got messy; the flesh was soft, but not too soft that it was mushy – this was the perfect mango. And I stood in that moment and savoured the succulence, the heavenliness of that mango. The ancient Greeks used to say that honey was the food of the gods – they were wrong I thought, surely this Bombay mango must be the food of the gods – it was divine.

And I noted that when I had finished that mango, I had no desire for anything else. I did not want more; I did not want another mango; I did not want any other fruit; I did not want anything to drink; I did not want anything else to eat. I was totally satiated.

And I muse, how many times do we go through life with a feeling of enough, of being sated? How many times in our lives are we present enough to recognise those moments when enough is just right? For most of us, we are so busy rushing from one thing to another that we don’t stop to savour those moments of satiation.

I had planned to rush off after this, my Saturday morning run, my head full of a long list of Saturday things-to-do. Instead, during the run, I became present, enjoying the blossoming morning, the camaraderie of my running partners, the colour and aliveness of the gardens I passed, the birds gleeful in their song, the dogs snoozing at the gates, the entire experience unfolding step by step. And so, in that frame of mind, the Bombay mango presented itself in all its glory, magnificence and perfection.

A simple mango. And yet it brought me such delight in that moment. What else is there in our lives that can bring us delight? That’s the surprise of life! For those things that bring us true delight are not the things we anticipate eagerly – instead they are the things that we become present to as they occur. Do I now await eagerly another Bombay mango? Do I now start my quest for another perfect mango? Do I frantically try to find Yasmin, from whose tree the mango came, and ask her for more mangoes? No. I simply know that that mango is enough. It is the only mango. No regrets. Only joy. Yum yum. Ummmm.