Mango Conciousness
It was a little beyond the middle of June. Summer was yet to yield, monsoons were weak. Navneeth and I were having a rather late breakfast and thud came a sound. It was a familiar sound, the inevitable had happened. The last mango from our tree had fallen. The mango season is almost yogic, your mind body and soul becomes one with the fruit, ask a mango-devotee he would agree. in the mango belt of this world mango is a religion. For those who have not tasted mango yet, maybe you folks might find heaven in your afterlife. But a man who has tasted the mango has found his heaven, his nirvana in this life itself. The soft thud from the last falling mango was like a big bang ringing into our hearts the message that the end of season is around, and that now we have to wait for another year to experience the mango-divine. The fruit fell with a diaphanous smoke of dust arising, so small and trifling but it was like a nuclear explosion in our hearts, filling our minds with the clouds o