As the kaleidoscope of seasons passes by, we experience the beauty of nature in its varied hues from blossoms blooming in springtime, summer showers bathing the earth afresh, fruit-laden trees in autumn, and snow spreading a white cloak all around in winter.

Every season brings with it its respective activities. If winter comes with its management of woollens, blankets, and quilts, monsoon brings swarms of insects along to keep us on our toes, but when it’s time for summer, our mango tree keeps our household busy for months together.

The tree has stood tall in the backyard for years, its branches spreading onto the first-floor roof, from where we manage the bumper crop of the most luscious and sweetest mangoes. As spring bids adieu, the sight of the mango tree breaking into yellow florets, called ‘boor’ in Punjabi, presents a promise of profusion. The melodious songs of the koel hidden from the eye in the clusters create a symphony that serenades the soul.

Once the flowers wilt, little mangoes emerge, filling the heart with excitement and anticipation. As the pre-monsoon storms throw some unripe mangoes to the ground, I’m transported back to childhood, looking for them in the grass, under dry leaves, or behind planters. If only I could make ‘peepni’, the reed pipe of its soft kernel, and blow it loudly as we used to do back then!

Watching mangoes transform from raw to ripe fruits is truly satisfying. But how do we manage the bumper harvest? The only answer is by sharing. The first delivery of raw mangoes goes to neighbours, friends, domestic helps and the gardener. Our housemaid distributes the packets marked according to the number of family members in each household. The churning sound of blenders from all around by the evening indicates that everyone is going to enjoy ‘chutney’ for dinner.

The second round is more tedious, as we have to pick the ripe juicy mangoes before they fall and burst. By then, relatives from distant places start calling us for their share. More packets are made for Chandigarh, Jalandhar, Fazilka and New Delhi. Either we go there or they come home to Patiala. But no one ever lets go of their share.

During the Covid lockdown, sending mangoes to outstation relatives was not possible, and even after sharing several rounds locally, we were left with an enormous pile. Our YouTube binge led us to try almost every mango recipe that could be preserved for an extended period, such as pickles, sweet chutney, murabba, candy, and what not! Some were successful, and a few were disasters. For instance, our ‘aam-papad’ turned out to be something from another world.

We look after the mango tree as one of our family members and take it as our sacred duty to ensure its upkeep. In return for the care we take, it has taught us the life lesson of sharing our blessings.

The writer is a Patiala-based retired associate professor in English. She can be contacted at njkaur1953@gmail.com