The Voice of a Mango

Being one of the juiciest fruits in the world, I consider myself to be lucky enough to win the hearts of everyone whoever has tasted me. It is indeed gratifying to know that I am often called to be the ‘King of all fruits’ in India/Bharat specifically. I lose every reason in such amazement. I can be of various types, not only in my appearance but also in my sweetness and taste, and my juiciness. Each and every person does enjoy me to his heart’s content. When it is blisteringly hot in summer, I try to cool down the inner restlessness of the people in no time with my soothing smell. Of course, right then, I am used in my green or young state. Most interestingly, I intoxicate the entire surrounding area with my sweet and alluring smell. I am a fruit of summer; however, the residents in my area keep on thinking about me almost all through the year. People wait for the next summer to come for the sake of relishing my great smell as well as my unique taste. I feel glad indeed, thinking that I, too, am a reason for people’s smile. People have forgotten to smile these days. Hence, it makes me feel blessed to play that role.

You may like to read my other blogs:

https://mirandamemmi.blogspot.com/

https://somaliomnibus.blogspot.com/

https://childrenblogbysomali.blogspot.com/

https://somalimukherjee.blogspot.com/

Summer in India

 

The dazzling beams of the sun give everyone a sensation of the scorches, for sure. Yes, summer has come. It is the time to bathe in the heat of the sun as much as you want. After the light Indian winter, when the spring is over, the sun feels definitely merciful as well as malignant. At the onset of the Indian summer, it feels a bit lively, a bit regaling that it is no more the time to stay drowsy under the blanket. It feels as if a new era is in the offing. Well, I wish that it were like this forever—bright, jubilant, and full of life and cheers. So, so goes on in every heart. Wait! You have just experienced the tip of an iceberg and nothing other than that. The more time runs, the more days go by, the more it becomes intolerably blistering, the more you can witness that the Indian summer is not full of mirth alone. Everything is supposed to be like this, isn’t it? People wait and look up high in the sky for a drop of rain to drench their dry lips. Nevertheless, the alluring aroma and sweetness of the mangoes are indeed amazing. Yes, like everything else, there is an oasis, a shaft of hope lying underneath.