Mango is the fruit in Pakistan from which the tale of love, mystery and tradition begins.
The first time I disappointed my mother was when I told her that I don’t like mangoes. She was heartbroken. As a daughter of an engineer turned farmer her love for mangoes is deep. It is not just my mum. Generally if I tell anyone in Pakistan that I am not very fond of mangoes they are always taken by surprise. I feel that it was for people like me that Mirza Ghalib a very famous Urdu poet once said that “only donkeys don’t eat mangoes”. So only a fool cannot appreciate something as delightful as mangoes.
Mangoes are the only thing which makes people excited about summers. When you can smell ripening mangoes in air and burn in scorching sun outside it means summers are here. The funny thing is that we eat mangoes with rice but this only happens in the part of Pakistan I live. It is rather considered as a delicacy. But according to my mum nothing goes better with a mango than a mango itself.
The truth is that a good mango always tastes good. The problem is that it is not easy to devour one. We Pakistanis eat it like it’s a piece of art. When I try to do the same (try to eat it without folk) I look like an idiot. Its juice drops on my clothes so generally I prefer eating fruits which do not involve cutting them which makes berries my favorite.
Just the way it is not easy to devour mango it is also not easy to afford Mango. I am referring to a fashion brand called Mango. It is on my wish list this summers. I just hope I get lucky with Mangoes this year.
Frankly, if I could only use one phrase to describe people of Pakistan I would use the phrase “The mango people”. We are a nation which grows one of the best mangoes in the world and love them in the best way possible.