In this post I am portraying an incident, as told by Amma to me. This was the era of sixties, my mom a newly wedded bride, came over a miles apart to Kolkata where Accha worked for a living. She was a village bele born and brought up with the innocence of village. She was a tender vine, with no knowledge of the hardship of city life. Amma was the youngest amoung her ten siblings, adored by her eight brothers and her only sister. She, a bubbling innocence used to enjoy all the freedom roaming around in her courtyard plucking fruits and flowers, playing around in the rivers,fields, and ponds catching fishes. She was a carefree bird flying in a clear sky. This lovey dovey of village came over to the clutter and bluster of city life, ignorant of the happenings and the ways of life here. Accha a busy worker, hardly had time to make her view the city scenario or to explain her the way people lived here. She was hardly twenty then. They shifted to a small one room apartment on the ground floor in one of the lanes of Kolkata. As you can assume she felt locked down and in a cage. The only entertainment for her the whole day was to watch through the windows the hustle bustle of moving vehicles and rickshaw walas. Amma was slowly getting adjusted to this life of hers, and a period of two months passed by. The summer was approaching alongwith the seasons of mango. Amma who was an ardent lover of fruits especially MANGO, and was desperate for having one; but couldn't find the way to get it the way she used to in her village. Since, Amma still hadn't learned the local language so didn't have any idea how to approach any one outside. The days were moving on as usual, she sitting near the window, watching and waiting for Acchan to come back from work. During her two months stay, Amma neither could have a good conversation with Accha nor could she keep her desire for having mangoes in front of him. For, in those days just to obey one's husband without demanding anything, was the ordeal thrust upon her, by her mother. But her desperation for having MANGO was very high. Now, her window peering was going on as usual and during one such day, she suddenly heard a voice "MAGO", "MAGO" , my innocent Amma without rectifying what she heard ran outside to get her "MANGO" and alas what do she see 🥺🥺..(a haggard female),since she didn't know the language, she couldn't make out what actually was, happening. My mom kept on asking for MANGO from the begger with what ever way she could explain to her, and on the other side the begger kept on saying 'MAGO''MAGO, this happened for a while, and in midst of all this Accha arrived and had a good laugh😁😁. Seeing my Accha laughing my mom burst into tears 😭😭. My mom was very sad😩 and confused🤔. Consoling her my Accha explained to her saying, in Bengali "MAGO" means mother, just as Amma in Tamil for addressing females, so she was actually a beggar and was asking alms, and not selling MANGO. As said a "Jaundiced eye' will see everything yellow" My poor Amma was so desperate, that she could hear and feel only MANGO 😂😂😂😂.
