Story of my Life

Country roads…

What are you doing, he asks. Documentation, I say.

OK, enough photos. Come back here, he says.

 He unpacked his backpack. Kebabs, lahsun ka saaga, chutney…and this. Fresh fruit from Ammi’s back garden. (Haatha)

Custard Apple, individually wrapped in newspaper, still raw. 

About Natasha Badhwar

"Because I'm a Tinker. That's who I am. Tinkers fix things. But I can't do it alone." (Pause for lots of action. Group Action......) "You did it, Tinker, you saved Spring!" I also have three children, one marriage, a million friends and one life.
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2 Responses to Story of my Life

  1. Oh wow Natasha! Every once in a while I start dreamily to talk about this wonderful fruit I ate a few times when I lived in India some 20 years ago. My companion always smile, knowing this is always the beginning of my reminiscence of India, a reminiscence which can last for the whole breakfast or dinner, evening, whatever. I always start musing about the name of the fruit: was it Buddha head as a friend once said? No, it wasn't Buddha head. Someone else offered «custard apple», but that didn't ring a bell. Until now, seeing your photo of this wonderfully tasty exotic fruit! I went back to India twice and never tasted it again. But my memory of India is in the nectar of this fruit as you talk about the nectar of the moon over there. The amrita of India. Thank you for sharing your picnic! I just called my companion to my desktop and he marveled at the fact that it is a real fruit! He says he first heard "fruit" as if I was talking about the fruit of my work. I'm at a treshold, I can feel it, I can almost taste it! Your photo created a great epiphany for me today. "Les beaux esprits se rencontrent" as we say in French. Sending you my love.

  2. Natasha says:

    Shareefa. Sharifa. That is the name of this fruit. It is indeed nectar. My mother in law sent it for me, because she knows I love it!Thank you for sharing your wonderful reminiscence. I send love!

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