Occha by Palavaka Art & Design studio by Palavaka

Congratulations Shreya!!!

Fruit Tree Manaswini

Editor : Niranjana

Layout design : Shreya

Front cover : Manavika

FRUIT

TREE

Manaswini

Manju was heading home after school.

Melaram’s shop was just by the road.

“Hello Manju ! What do you want today?” asked Melaram.

“Oh! The usual Ramji. Have the chocolate toffees arrived yet? No? When will they come? The Mango Frooty is so sweet. Give me three please.” Manju said.

“Why three?” Melaram demanded, full of suspicion.

“Two for me and one for Grandma.” Manju replied.

“Kids these days! Can’t even eat healthy rice at home and comes to shops asking for all those junk foods. I don’t know what...” Melaram started muttering to himself.

Manju quietly paid and left. It was best to leave Melaram alone when he was angry. He would go on and on and finally Manju would end up going home without buying the Frooty.

She enjoyed the cool breeze of the evening as she walked along the corn fields full of yellow and green corn. She walked happily, biting the sugar canes she had just picked from the fields and sipping the Frooty every now and then. Manju’s parents worked a long way from her home, as farmers. Manju lived all alone on a small township with her

grandmother. So, at the age of 10, she considered herself as the head of the house.

Thinking about all these things, Manju finally reached home. Grandmother was on her favourite chair, reading Ramayana. She was not really reading for she had accidentally fallen asleep. She woke with a shock as Manju slipped cold, sweet Frooty onto Grandma’s hand. She smiled and said “Oh! Again your Frooty!”

Next day while coming back from school, as usual Manju entered Melaram’s shop. She was just about to take the Frooties when suddenly her eyes caught something very yellow and sweet looking.

It was of course, the king of the fruits, which was known for its amazing taste. They were mangoes, very ripe. As Manju was staring at the big jar of mangoes, Melaram entered.

“Frooty, I suppose. Hmmmm...... I’m sorry but they are finished, Manju. You can however take the mangoes, though.” Melaram said. “Of course, you kids these days eat nothing healthy......” he continued under his breath.

“Yes Ramji. I think I will. Take a kilo please.” Manju answered. Melaram smiled.

Soon, Manju was walking through the familiar field, her pocket and hands filled with mangoes.

Today surprisingly, instead of sleeping, Grandma was watering the plants. As any kid, the first thing Manju did

was to give Grandma a mango and eat one. She tore off the mango skin with her strong teeth and took a bite at the mango. The moment mango was bitten, cool and sweet juice filled Manju’s mouth. She enjoyed the rest of the fruit thoroughly and as usual was about to throw the seed when grandma sprang up from her seat.

- “Manju! What are you doing?”

Manju jumped with shock.

- “What happened grandma?”

- “Why are you throwing away the seed?”

- “What else am I supposed to do with it? It’s just a seed!”

“Just a seed indeed!” Grandma exclaimed shaking her head “You plant it.” She said with a twinkle in her eye. “Quick, fill a bucket with water and bring it here.” Grandma ordered.

Manju did as she was told. Grandma took the seed and began digging the soil with a spade. She then put the seed in the pit and covered it with soil. Then she told Manju to water it.

“Wait and see, Manju. This small seed will be a big tree once!” said Grandma “Your Frooties will never be!” She added with a smile on her lips.

Days passed and everyday Manju would water it. She still remembers the day when she saw the first sprout coming up through the soil. She was overjoyed and hugged Grandma. The sprout turned into a small plant then. Every day she watered it, put manure, took care of the pests and gave it such loving care. Everything was well with the plant, until one day when Shyama Auntytheir neighbourcame along and without anyone noticing, took all the leaves which had sprouted from the seed. It was only a young plant with only few leaves. Now there was not even one single leaf left on the plant! Manju cried a lot and Grandma scolded Shyama Aunty.

The young plant was not ready to give up. Even though it was very weak, it held on and no sooner it had many leaves again.

Many more days fl ew. Manju and the tree were growing, and Grandma was growing older. Both of them did all that the plant needed. Manju daydreamed of sitting on its branches, plucking mangoes straight from the tree. She thought of the evenings when Grandma and she would sit under it and talk. She dreamt of the mango pickles they would make with the mangoes. The sweet fresh taste of ripe mango..... Wow! Nothing like that in the world.....not even Frooty......

Grandma loved the tree like her own child. One day Manju

caught her hanging her bangles on the tree. She told her that it was a ritual which was known as ‘Chudi pahanai’ or ‘Vat Savitri puja’. “Watch child, now what will happen to our mango tree!” She said.

Many more days passed and the tree was showered with immeasurable love by both Grandma and Manju. Days turned into months and months turned into years. Manju reached adulthood. It was high time for her to study further and fl y abroad. Everyone was so proud of her. She became busy with new schedules, friends and life. She had more to think about now than old grannies or mango. But somehow, her childhood, Grandma and the tree remained in some small corner of her psyche forever.

Only many years later did she c0me back to her ancestral home. She reached the gate of the familiar house, where her childhood memories resided. Lots had changed. There were no more open fields: they had given way to high-rise buildings and fl ats long ago. The whole township was now totally different. Her small house looked even smaller and congested in that concrete jungle. But inside her home compound, everything was still just the same. The fl owers, the plants, the birds........ The young mango tree stood in the same place.

But now it was a big tree with well-spread branches, hundreds of leaves and a lot of mangoes. Many birds were singing on her branches. Mangoes jingled as wind touched them.

Manju sat below the tree enjoying its shade. She closed her eyes and tried once again to conjure her childhood back. Resting her head on the tree trunk she looked up at the tree then. Suddenly, her eyes caught something glittering. Grandma’s bangle was still hanging on one of its branches! She kept looking at it for hours on end. “Yes Grandma, now I see what your bangles did to our tree” she said to herself. She couldn’t believe it was the same tree that once she held as a seed in her own hands. And then she thought about Grandma ....... she had left them long before, only her spirit was now...... here......and the mango tree......

A cool naughty breeze caressed her, plucked a mango and landed it in her lap. She took it, bit into the sweet fl eshy freshness. The rich taste filled her own mouth. She sat there her enjoying the mango.

She looked up at Grandma’s bangles again, her eyes welling, tears overfl owing.......another cool breeze touched her wet cheeks.

Illustration Manavika/Maulika