THE TASTE OF LEMONS: MEENAKSHI GOGOI
Meenakshi Gogoi
The tall, prickly, sprawling lemon trees in the backyard of Roopa’s house were a gift from nature. The bright yellow, scented lemons, when ripe in their fullest form, would be ready for an appealing transformation from juicy lemons to sweet-sour lemonade, delicious murabba, and spicy-tangy pickles made by her grand-mother’s expert pickle-making hands. The sterilised glass jars, every summer, would wait patiently to be filled airtight with small pieces of lemon tossed in spices and mustard oil. It would be left in sunny spots to retain the lemons’ soft, chewy texture, with their light ridges in every bite. The sunbaked, salt-mixed pieces of dried lemons would be stored for use in recipes and for children to munch on, like sweet-tangy aam papads, while playing and hanging out with friends. Roopa’s grand-mother, Sumitra, would prepare those lemon items perfectly suited to the taste buds of lemon lovers.
Since childhood, Roopa had seen her mother and grand-mother working together to prepare the best lemon pickles at home. As she grew, Roopa learnt to make Shikanji, a popular summer lemon drink. Her grand-mother’s friend Prabha’s young daughter, Naina, a Nurse serving at a government hospital in town, would place orders for those tasty lemon pickles every summer for her hostel mates and colleagues. Sumitra and Prabha happened to be married at the same time. They bonded well at weddings, festivals, birthdays, and other events held in the village and became good friends over the years. Prabha learnt to prepare lemon pickles from Sumitra, but they lacked the taste of Sumitra’s pickles. Soon, Sumitra’s pickles became popular at her in-laws' house and in her paternal village, including the neighbouring villages. The wealthy village families would order her pickles to be served at weddings, feasts and festivals.
At a time when village women were limited to household and farmland work, Sumitra was sitting at home, earning a living. Her pickles were sold in the village's weekly Haats and local grocery shops. Therefore, her spouse took great care of the lemon trees planted yearly in the backyard. They grew into healthy, small trees that produced hundreds of lemons each year. After his death, it was Roopa’s father who cared for the lemon trees, providing good manure and organic compost to support their growth, fruiting, and quality.
During monsoons, Sumitra would place poly sheets under the trees to protect ripe and green lemons from splashes of rain and the strong breeze that often tore them from their branches, letting them fall to the ground. The monsoon was at the corner, and Roopa had spotted her father and grand-mother busy spreading the poly sheets under the lemon trees. The soil drainage was designed to allow water to flow sideways and prevent it from pooling at the trees' bottoms. Roopa spotted Sumitra plucking the half-ripe lemons and storing them in a large bamboo basket to make pickles. Roopa went near her and asked, “Grandma, you have plucked a good number of lemons. Will you make pickles for Naina Didi?” Sumitra smiled and replied, “Yes, dear. Naina had ordered pickles. I don’t want the good lemons to be drenched in monsoon rain and rot. So, plucking them.” Roopa nodded and carefully plucked a few good-sized lemons escaping the shooting thorns attached to the sprawling branches. She helped Sumitra clean the lemons and spread them neatly over a bamboo dagra (dola).
In the evening, Prabha visited Sumitra at her home. Sumitra was sitting in the veranda, sipping her favourite cup of ginger tea. It was a breezy, cool evening, signalling monsoon's arrival at any moment. Prabha sat beside her. She was offered tea with local snacks. Prabha smiled and said, “I have good news.” Sumitra felt curious, and her face lit up.
Prabha said that the grocery shop owner in the market had introduced her to a woman from an NGO working in the neighbouring village. She happened to know about Sumitra and asked Prabha about her. She wanted to invite Sumitra to a workshop to help village women earn a living. Sumitra smiled and said, “Indeed, a good news. The village women will benefit.” Sumitra expressed her willingness to meet the woman from the NGO. Prabha told Sumitra that she would accompany the woman to her home the next day.
The following afternoon, the NGO woman, Neelima, arrived with Prabha. Sumitra welcomed her. Roopa made Shikanji and served her. Neelima loved the refreshing Shikanji. She told Sumitra about the pickle-and-snack-making workshop to be held at the village sports field. The workshop would be jointly organised by the office of the Deputy Commissioner and the NGO ‘Sakhi’ to promote economic independence of the village women. Neelima heard about Sumitra’s pickle-making expertise from the village women when she had gone to spread awareness about the workshop. Neelima asked, “What inspired you to sell your pickles? How did you do it over the years?” “I am very fond of making pickles. It is my passion to feed people my hand-made pickles,” replied Sumitra.
She further expressed that her late husband used to love her pickles. One day, his friend, the grocery owner, tasted her pickle and loved it so much that he advised her to sell it. Initially, Sumitra paid little heed to his advice. But when her children went to high school, Sumitra felt the need to contribute her money to their education. Then, she seriously considered selling her lemon pickles, and her husband supported her in this endeavour. Neelima nodded and asked, “Had she not inspired the village women?” Sumitra replied, “Women were mostly busy with their household and field work. Not all of them were desirous to make pickles and sell them.” But Sumitra said that with changing times, monsoon flooding, and heavy seasonal downpours, people would not be able to rely solely on cropping and harvests.The village women could consider selling homemade pickles to earn money. Neelima said the workshops would be conducted to help people transform their thinking into better ways of earning. After a heartfelt conversation, Neelima was convinced that Sumitra would attend the workshop. Sumitra offered her a small ceramic jar of her handmade lemon pickle. Neelima thanked her for the pickle jar. She left, hoping to meet her again at the workshop.
The workshop day arrived. Prabha and Sumitra felt good to see that village women had come, though not many, to attend the workshop. Neelima, an officer, a few employees from the DC office, and NGO people were present. She praised Sumitra’s pickle-making, which helped her earn. At Neelima’s insistence, Sumitra said, “I make pickles out of my passion and sell them to earn money. I don’t see pickle making as a small job to earn. Because it is worth selling and earning. You all start your own journey of earning a living and feel free.” The village women patiently listened to Sumitra’s speech. They were immensely inspired by her to form their own self-help groups and also to join the nearby training centre to sustain their livelihoods. Sumitra felt the eagerness of those women to contribute to their families economically, however little. It was a worthy and welcoming change of hearts.
(Meenakshi Gogoi writes fiction and loves to read non-fiction and biographies. Her Short Stories are published in The Hills Times, Muse India, Setu Magazine (A Bi-Lingual Magazine published from Pittsburgh, USA), LitStream Magazine(A Weekly Literary Supplement of The Headlines Today, Newspaper, J&K), The Mocking Owl Roost Magazine, The Wild Word Magazine, Prachya Review, DoubleSpeak Magazine, Otherwise Engaged: The Literary and Arts Journal, Sunkissed Short Summer Romances: An Anthology by Red Polka Books, and Creatures of Habit: An Odd to Oddity (An Anthology published by Culture Cult Magazine and Press, Kolkata). She lives in Guwahati (Assam), India.)
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