I don’t know exactly how it started- but I was suddenly having a light discussion with a co-worker/friend about if the mango I bought yesterday from the market near work was as good as I expected it to be. It wasn’t… and this led to a short ‘conversation’ about good-tasting mangoes. Just going with the flow of that talk, I told him how we used to have a ‘grandfather-aged’ mango tree in the house I grew up in that produced the best mangoes I have ever tasted in life and how we used to watch mangoes falling during the (as some say.. ‘dangerous’) nor’wester storms and waited till it was safe to go out and get those mangoes inside the house.
As you see- I ended up talking about the crazy storm and rain- and, not to mention, the crazy heat of Dhaka- not in so many words probably, but all in one or two sentences. Worth mentioning for your ease of understanding that it hardly ever storms in Melbourne and the rain we get here is… umm… not as wild- and the heat? It’s nothing compared to that of Dhaka… also I don’t see mango trees here, I believe the mangoes we get here come from Queensland or something- it’s much warmer there in Queensland- and much heat is needed for germination of mangoes.
I was not very aware of my words- I swear I was truly discussing mangoes and nothing else, but from the change of expression in his eyes and the smile that followed- did I realize that he noticed; even though I’m thankful that he did not probe. I don’t do very well with sharing.
And yes, I have walked a long way from home.
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