Untitled Poem #2

By | 31 October 2020

I have heard that my mother’s nanabapu planted mango trees on his farm so that you could taste the the fruit from March to August. Such lush green in the Kutch desert.

Walking on the land, you could travel from Sindh to Rataul to the far south. Sindhri, Hafus, Kesar, Langdo, Dussheri, Rataul and Imam Pasand.

Here in Singapore I had the flavour of mangoes on my tongue from April to July. No, I gorged on mangoes. No journeying. The mangoes kept coming. Home delivery in the time of Covid 19. First the Hafus. Then Kesar. Dussheri. Langdo. Rataul. Sindhri.


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