The days I screwed up (I) – The Mango incident!

(Presenting below the first of a series where I humiliate myself by recounting embarrassing incidents from my childhood!!!! Why am I doing this? Call it sado-masochism!)

It was an annual ritual to visit my hometown in Kannur in Kerala, where both my maternal grandparents as well as my paternal grandmother lived. It used to be the best time for both me and my sister, as it meant extreme pampering, delicious fried fish, mouthwatering Malabar-style chicken biryani at weddings, lots of cousins to play with and the ultimate pleasure – sucking on delicious mangoes!!!

We used to be stuffed on juicy mangoes at our grandparents houses. However, there used to be a slight difference in the mode of eating mangoes at my father’s and mother’s place. At my mom’s house, we used to be given large pieces of mangoes properly cut and served in plates. However, my dad’s relatives believed in eating the fruit in the old-fashioned way – plucking them from the tree directly and eating there – why involve such modern appliances like knives and plates to enjoy the fruit! Needless to say, we belonged to their school of thought in this aspect!

We used to spend hours honing the fine skills of aiming stones at the mangoes hanging from the tall trees and once they had fallen down, wiping them on our shirts and then hungrily biting large chunks off them.

This incident happened during the summer holidays immediately after my SSC exams. We reached my dad’s place at about 11 AM. My Vellyamma (Dad’s elder sister) had promised fish curry and showed us a huge cooking pot on the cooking place. The cooking place was open from the top to allow the smoke from the firewood to go away. I quickly got together with my cousin – Pravin and vellyachchan (Vellyamma’s husband) and decided to hit the trees near the gates of the house.

We reached the gates and were not disappointed with the sight. There was the huge mango tree in front of us, laden with the juicy fruits. We quickly reached out and plucked a couple of them. As we bit into them, we realized that they were sour.

“The sweet ones are on the top”, vellyachchan wisely suggested.

“Hmm…ok…lets get some of the mangoes down from the top”, Pravin said.

“OK”, said I. We picked up some of the stones lying around and started throwing them at the mangoes near the top. Some of these mangoes must have been at a height of more than 25 - 30 feet.

None of the stones that I threw went beyond 15 feet. My vellyachchan and my cousin started giving me “weak-city-boy” looks. Needless to say, I was embarrassed with my throwing skills.

Lighting a bidi, my vellyachchan gave me a Clint-Eastwood-ish stare and said, “You will need to aim higher than that…you know!”

Understandably depressed at the situation, I decided to use my academic skills. After all, I had completed my Xth standard exams and was qualified to develop a condescending manner.

I told my vellyachchan to lend me his towel. He usually carried around the towel, a longish piece of cloth used for wiping sweat and driving away flies (Also used to hide the pack of bidis from his wife who thoroughly disapproved of smoking). He handed it to me with a cynical look. My cousin was staring at me as if I had gone mad.

I took the towel, selected a large sharp piece of stone and wrapped the stone in the towel. “Now watch what a little amount of brains can do”, I announced to my wonderstruck audience. Using the towel as a slingshot, I started swinging the towel with great force. One Swing…two…three…the cloth was gaining speed…and then I let go!

The stone swished (or zoomed or ) and sailed up into the sky. As it rose, I looked at them triumphantly. “Hehe…have you ever thrown like that?” I asked them. But then I realized that they were looking with mouth wide open at the sky. The stone was sailing up into the sky – having completely missed the mango, the tree and in fact going in the complete opposite direction from what I intended it to go in!

I swear that the next few events happened in slow motion. I could see vellyachchan and the cousin watching the stone sailing thru. The stone went on top of our house, paused mid-air as if contemplating next steps, then neatly went in thru the chimney. I could hear a loud plop, as the stone found its mark.

“Wow, nice shot…” My cousin said, in a serious tone. I gave him a withering look.

Almost immediately, a wail arouse from the house. “Eda…Mahapaapi!!!!” – I could hear my vellyamma’s furious cry. Apparently the stone had landed in the fish curry, smashing the pot, splashing the nearby onlookers with liberal doses of fish and curry, and making the kitchen a mess.

We ran, and by we – I mean, my vellyachchan, my cousin and of course me! I never knew my vellyachchan could run so fast! We returned after a couple of hours when we felt that she would have cooled down (My vellyachchan was an expert in estimating the time taken for my vellyamma to cool down!).

We walked in innocently just in time for lunch. Luckily they did not realize what exactly had happened, and was under the impression that a crow had dropped a stone while attempting to filch the fish.

Needless to say, no fish was served that day!!

The details of the incident remains a closely guarded secret to this day!