It was a love affair long before one knew what love was. They were golden, dripping with a heavenly juice, fleshy and aromatic.
To bite into a mango and get that sweet, sticky juice squirting all over your chin and clothes is to drift back into blissful childhood, into days that seemed to have no beginning and no end. You didn’t think of a future – life was in the here and now, and there was great joy in being alive in the blazing sun, in close friendships, in whiling away hours doing absolutely, gloriously, nothing.
My love song to the mango.