It’s
been a while since I’ve been through a heart break. Years... many
years! But I went through another a few months ago, and I’m glad that I went through something leading me to the
eventuality that is the beginning of the end of a relationship. I hadn't been in one for far too long. It was
great, but long distance because- covid. But since I decided to
break a few patterns I’m used to (namely, telling all my friends about
it in real time instead of ages after it happens and wallowing in self
pity for too long after) I saw myself handling the heartbreak much
better this time around. And ready to move on. Who knew talking to
people helps! Someone should have told me this fifteen years ago when I
had my first real heartbreak But hindsight is 20/20... and I have to interrupt to say that this
phrase has really taken a life of its own over the past year, hasn’t it?
So yea, it smells like heartbreak...
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Jackfruits growing outside Auroville bakery cafe
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And also jackfruit... someone gave me a jackfruit yesterday and if
you’ve had a whole ripe one in your house, you know how strong and
warm and lovely the smell is... but it’s not to everyone’s liking. Eg:
my mum. So we’ve never even attempted cracking open a whole fruit at
home. We always bought bulbs of jackfruit from the market, and just
enough for me and my father. Its sweet, fleshy bulb is slimy and shiny
and such a rich yellow and I love to sink my teeth into it. With this
background, imagine a twenty two year old me buying a whole jackfruit
just so I can cut it open. In an place I had just landed in a
couple of days ago... In the warm and humid summer of Auroville, 2006.
I had just arrived there for my internship, moved to a mint
condition youth hostel... no kidding, I was the second occupant after a
Korean boy who was running around frantically chasing after his friend
in nothing but shorts, yet stopped in his tracks to bow and say hi as he
noticed me in the lobby. How bizarre?! (yet not too bizarre as my time
in Auroville would eventually teach me.) And it was a Sunday so I rented a
moped to visit Pondicherry, twenty kilometres away. This was a time
before smartphones and google maps... or even Internet on phones, but
at twenty two years old, one is - well... fearless. So armed with the memory of a four
day college study trip to Auroville and Pondicherry in 2003, I ventured out to town, soaked in the sun, explored a
few bakeries, bought some supplies, took a mandatory trip to the Ashram
(I’m not religious or spiritual, but it has a peaceful vibe I like) and headed back to Auroville. My sense of direction was absolutely
spot on, btw. So here I was, back on the streets of Auroville on my
rented blue moped when I saw two local boys sitting by the road with
five or six huge jackfruits to sell. I passed them by but had second thoughts and turned back. This was my chance! I had to try it out- cutting open a
jackfruit. The brand new youth hostel had a well
equipped brand new kitchen with brand new knifes. I found some oil, and
on the stainless steel industrial kitchen bench and got to work. I thought
the occupants of the hostel (three of us including the caretaker) could
enjoy the jackfruit but I did such a shabby job that there wasn't much left for all of us.I have never attempted to cut another jackfruit after that and always leave it to people far more skilled than me. As I enjoy these wonderful golden bulbs full of a warm sweet aroma I think of the smell of the warm, muggy late Sunday
afternoon mixed with the mixed vegetation of the area, whiff of the red earth
(can’t explain it, but it has a distinct smell) and
ripe jackfruit from that day in 2006. That was my defining smell of Auroville.
And heartbreak... it's all too familiar, but that familiarity is also my coping mechanism now. Looking forward to the next one. Heartbreak and jackfruit both!
