When I got Lemons…
The Lemon Tree
Our modest garden
- with a small lawn, roses, hibiscus, jasmine, night-queen, madhukamini, and a
few Brahmakamal plants in pots - has no space for large trees. Years ago, we had
planted a lemon sapling about six inches tall on the sliver of land between the
southern boundary wall and the paved corridor providing access to the maid to
the washing area at the back of the kitchen.
The lemon
tree languished there like an orphan while the rose-bushes bordering the manicured
lawn enjoyed royal treatment with generous feed of rose mixture, neem-khali, and
mindful watering. It was good that it never got to watch how Ma’am fussed over her
roses and took great pride in the beautiful flowers that bloomed in season.
Yet, it grew
and grew by sheer force of will, it seems, and three years ago surprised us
with a modest yield of a few fruits – small but juicy. Fed with vermicompost
and watered twice a week; this year’s crop is bountiful, and the size of lemons
is impressive. At last, you took notice and looked after me; and see what I’m
capable of. Have your roses gladdened the hearts of your neighbours as I’ve pleased
their palate, it asked us?
Thanks, Dear Lemon Tree, for your luxuriant produce. Sorry for the years of neglect. I had never nurtured a lemon tree, busy as I was slogging at my work. No idea, though, if my endeavours over those long years yielded much fruit.
Your zest amazes me. How did you dig into the rocky terrain and manage to grow on such a thin strip of land? How much taller would you grow? What variety are you - Thar Vaibhav, Lucknow seedless, Eureka, Lisbon, Genoa? I shared a pic of the fruit with Google and asked. It smartly noticed the tiny nipple-tip bump on the yellow fruit and determined that you are a Eureka cultivar.
With an
average life span of fifty years, you’d easily outlive us. We hope our
successors would look after you well, and you would continue to shower your
gifts on them.
Nimbu-Mirchi Totka
We don’t hang
a totka-garland at our entrance door. With our sturdy lemon tree standing as a
sentinel with glowing lemons studded like medallions on its wide chest, what
evil eye dare look at our home?
Make Lemonade?
You have heard
the quote - “If Life Gives You Lemons, Make Lemonade.” What do you think of it?
A bit preachy and patronising, no? Maybe, the unsolicited advice was given by
one who never made lemonade for self or for sale. The positivity quote was popularised
by Dale Carnegie in How to Stop Worrying and Start Living, who attributed
it to Jules Renard, though Elbert Hubbard, a writer, first used it in 1915.
Let the
Americans make lemonade, but what should we do? Make nimbu ka achaar, since
our production of nimbu far exceeds our consumption of the fresh fruit for sikanji,
serbet, nimbu-rice, marinating, seasoning, or just a slice of lemon served with
lunch or dinner. India is the world’s largest producer of lemon. The tree is native
to North-east India and Myanmar.
To practise
what I preach, I made nimbu ka meetha achaar following Nish Madhulika’s easy-to-do
recipe on You Tube. My third tryst at making pickles after previous limited
editions of tasty tamarind and moringa achaar!
Sanjukta tasted
it. Good, but too much of ajwain, she said. I had goofed up. Nisha’s recipe was
for half a kilo of lemons, I had taken about 200 grams, but had used as much
spice as she had recommended!
Why don’t we
have a weighing scale in out kitchen? How is a talented chef to achieve
excellence without scientific measurement? I fumed.
We had a
scale, but that was long ago. My dishes taste fine without measurement, she said.
When Life Gives You Tangerines…
That’s a
South Korean TV serial (Genre: Romance, Slice of Life, Drama) on Netflix. We
have watched two episodes. It’s about the life and struggle of Ae-Sun – a poor
but feisty girl from a little fishing island determined to move to Mainland and
make good in life.
Mandarins, oranges,
and tangerines are considered lucky fruits in China and South-east Asia.
But why is lemon
looked down upon, scorned, and pitied in America? Why don’t they counsel: If
you got pumpkins, make pumpkin-pie; if you got cotton, spin yarns and tie suffocating
knots on global trade; if you got sugar, sell colas and sugared-drinks to make
the world obese; if you got corn, flood the world with cornflakes spiked with
sugar?
Nimbooda, Nimbooda, Nimbooda…
You may have
watched the Bollywood film Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam. Remember Aishwarya
Rai’s voluptuous dance to the Nimbooda, Nimbooda song? I wondered why the
dancer was so excited about ordinary lemons till I read that the song’s lyrics
involve word play with sexual connotations, easily understood by adults in
Rajasthan. That’s why the suggestive song is so popular in marriage
celebrations.
Recently, I played
(from You Tube) Gazi Singh Manganiar’s rendering of this popular Rajasthani
folk song in Raag Bhairavi! A columnist rues that Aishwarya is remembered for
this hit song while few know about Gazi Singh’s exquisite rendering.
Lemon: Medicinal properties
Since ages, lemon
has been used in India for common remedies. Ayurveda uses lemon to treat migraine,
dyspepsia, sore throat, bleeding gums, mouth odour, and several other ailments.
Limey
The British learned
of lemon’s life-saving capability only in 1747 when James Lind, a Scottish naval
surgeon discovered that scurvy which killed thousands of seamen is cured by citrus
fruits – rich in vitamin C. Thereafter, Captains mandated the daily tipple ration
for seamen to be spiked with lime. That simple measure saved lives; but got the
British seamen, and later all Britishers, the sobriquet of Limey!
Nimbu Cleansing
Nimbu is not
merely edible, it infused nimbu ki tazgi for a fragrant bath with Liril
– the soap marketed with the iconic ad by Alyque Padamsee. Remember the
youthful girl cavorting under a waterfall at Kodaikanal for her solitary, joyful
bath, and the catchy jingle “La La Liril, La La Liril”? She was Karen Lunel,
an air hostess who became famous as a model with that single ad. Later, Preity
Zinta, and Deepika Padukone became Liril Girls.
After Liril
came nimbu ki mahashakti - nimbu detergent bars and nimbu-infused liquid
detergents. Citric acid efficiently removes oil and grime.
Nimbuka, Lisbon, Genoa
Nimbuka is
the Sanskrit name for lemon. This plant from India has travelled the world,
adapted to local climate, and birthed famous cultivars – Eureka in Mexico
and California, Lisbon in Portugal, and Genoa in Italy. After global
travel, it has returned to the country of its birth and happily rubs shoulders
with the unpretentious desi relatives. Assam is proud of the unique aroma of its
State Fruit Nemu Tenga (kazi nemu and gul nemu, too), Bengal goes gaga
over Gondhraj.
An Ode to Lemon
Lemon,
Lemon, Lemon!
Slayer of
scurvy demon,
Nature’s
little bundle of nectar,
From India
you’ve travelled far;
Provider of daily
dose of Vit C,
Thirst-buster,
body-cleanser, utensil-shiner,
Your juice
pure,
For several
ailments
A guaranteed
cure.
Accept my
humble offering -
Water twice
a week,
A helping of
vermicompost, and
My sincere gratitude;
Shower your
blessings on us,
Lemon, O Lemon,
Slayer of
scurvy demon.
May your
roots dig deep,
Branches
stay strong,
Fruits
bountiful,
O democratic
saviour,
Thirst-buster
of all – rich and poor.
***
Delightful!
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful writing on such a topic as lemon. It kept my interest throughout. Learnt many things about lemon which I didn’t know earlier. Congratulations Sir.
ReplyDeletevery refreshing writeup. it covers from six inches lemon sampling to its usase in life mankind.
ReplyDeleteବାଡିରେ ଫଳୁଥିବା ଏବଂ ପ୍ରାୟତଃ ଅଣଦେଖା ହେଉଥିବା ଲେମ୍ବୁ ଗଛଟି ପୁଣିଥରେ ଜୀବନଦାନ ପାଇ ଗଲାପରି ଲାଗିଲା। ଏହା ଲେଖକଙ୍କର ପାରିବା ପଣିଆ ନିଶ୍ଚିତ ଭାବେ ପ୍ରମାଣିତ, ସୁନ୍ଦର ଲେଖା।
ReplyDeleteଧନ୍ୟବାଦ ସାର୍ 🙏🏽
A "dash" of squeezed lemon ,
ReplyDeleteServed with ice , salt and sugar , eases every tension,
The humble juice , which is citric,
Ironically, removes grime because it is acidic ,
But what Prasanna loves , is its connection with Karen !!
The poem at the end is lovely. You've truly captured the essence of the lemon and the aachar is a big hit🎯
ReplyDelete