The forbidden fruit
Having spent my childhood days in Kargal, a small town close to the Sharavati hydroelectric project and in the vicinity of the picturesque Jog Falls, the scenic Malnad forest, an array of tiny, unheard-of water falls, and breath-taking views of the Western Ghats are etched in my memory.
Living in a small village, we didn’t have access to cinemas, hotels, or other sources of entertainment. Sometimes we had to take a long walk back to our home in Kargal from our school in Jog (about 6-7 km) when we missed our evening bus. We chatted endlessly about literally everything, including Kannada TV soaps, politics, cricket, girls, teachers, and so on. Sometimes we would get philosophical and start discussing life goals, the purpose of life, and world hunger.
On one such occasion, after a heated argument, we decided that we had to think big and do something to end world hunger. We decided we would try out various tubers, roots, and fruits (we were aware of forest fruits like vaate huli, murugana huli, starfruit, etc.) that were being wasted away in forests. I had noticed a tree full of fruits that looked almost like jamun (an Indian blackberry). I was surprised no one had ever tried this yummy-looking fruit. I decided this fruit was a suitable candidate to end world hunger and let the world know of my great discovery, which I was sure would get me awards and recognition. I even told my gang of friends that the plant should be named after me.
So on our next walk (after intentionally missing our school bus), we climbed the tree, plucked berries, and filled our pockets with this new fruit. As we tasted this berry, we noticed it was slightly pungent and sour.
We thought we would bring it home and marinate it to be tried as pickles. A versatile berry indeed! A few minutes later, we noticed our lips had started to swell like baboons’, our eyes were turning red, and we started to itch in every possible part of the body.
As we came home, our parents were shocked to see our swollen faces and fiery red eyes. We were rushed to a hospital and were given some anti-allergic medications, injections, and balms. The acidic fruits had burned holes in our trouser pockets, and our thighs had blisters.
Later, I realised why monkeys and squirrels would not touch this fruit, which was actually a doppelgänger of Jamun fruit, and hence the tree always brimmed with berries. We lived on the liquid diet of ganji (gruel), as it took several weeks for our oral mucosa to recover before we could start to eat actual food. In an overzealous desire to end world hunger, I had to go hungry for a few weeks! Whenever I see juicy Jamun fruit being sold on the streets of Gandhi Bazaar in Bengaluru, I still get jitters about the forbidden fruit that ended my hunger for months.