Mango Candy

My prized mango tree adorns the fence on my backyard. When they broadened the road, they wanted to raze it, but I had fought them hard to save it. I fought everyone for all the years when it bore just flowers but no fruit. Not a single nail has ever gone through it. Though I did not plant it with a plan, now that it is big, it is all mine. And so are all the delicious mangoes which grow on it every year.

It is a matter of great responsibility to own a mango tree. More so if you vouch for all the juicy mangoes as well. Bastards of unknown origin are on the prowl, and they have an unusual preference for the hot afternoons. I have to sit beside my tree, in the sultry heat, to protect my right – my mangoes. This year has been a windfall – the tree is stooping down with  mangoes. I am so excited! They will ripen fully on the tree before the harvest. Organic mangoes are in vogue nowadays.

No, I am not planning to sell a single one. I shall distribute the fruits among my neighbours – as many as I know, as far as I can go. That will not exhaust even half of the mangoes. The rest will go into the making of the mango candy with my secret recipe. I will not sell that either. They will be distributed among my relations far and wide. All this so that everyone praises me, overlook my ills and odds.

—

The mango distribution ceremony is over and the candy phase has started. The tree is almost empty.

Something bad just happened. It is likely that the bitch which barks all night has licked my prized candy. Candies are drying on the backyard, in the sun. I have not spared it either and hurled whatever I could lay my hands on. I did not miss – it whined, and then limped away. Give her leftovers, from fishbones to chicken heads, and this is what you get in return – barking all night, and licking candy stealthily! Ungrateful bitch!

—

That foul smell had to be a carcass. And so it was: the same limping bitch, rotten, glossy and all bulged up. It looks like a murder committed with vengeance – its head has been crushed with a brick. The body was lying just outside my fence, in the shade of my tree. I have got it thrown into the canal. Good riddance nonetheless.

—

Somewhere in my big heart I am feeling empty. Only a lovely costly chubby pug can fill back my heart. This is also my chance to show off how to love a dog. I will give it costly packed food from the supermarket. Leftovers or, for that matter, cheap mango candy will not be apt for it.

 

Blindness

Is it only the blind who know the agony of blindness? Not quite. The original blind does not care for the existence of light. Blindness to a blind is like flightlessness to whales. You miss flight only if you have known to fly, seen what it is.

Blindness is an extreme pain to one who has just lost his vision. However he too, eventually gets accustomed to the dark world. In a way, he learns to be blind. Some sell it to generate sympathy. Some are forced to blindness and used by others, sometimes themselves blind, for profiteering.

Certain faculties of the blind get unusually amplified. They may have feelings which cannot be felt by those with vision. They become extremely sensitive, reacting to events which never get affect one with vision. Good and bad are not exactly black and white; they are just names – extremely subjective in their meanings and values. Some words are common, but after all, the dark is a different world.

Blindness unites the blind. They feel for each other, discussing the pain which can be called as pain by just the blind, attributing all of it, and perhaps more, to those with vision. They are not bothered by the pains typical to people with vision, and just love it if vision is lost. The one with the light however feel for the blind, and toil for their welfare. In fact, in the long run, only those who see light may realize the agony of being blind; may really forgive the mistakes that blinds make so casually, habitually.