Some stories have to just quickly be told, no matter how busy-busy you are. For if you don’t, they are going to rumble in your tummy ALL the time. Or worst, salivate in your mouth. I’ll tell you how.
This happened, some time ago.
A friend. A lady, an Ayurvedic doctor, once went from Delhi to Chaproli, Haryana for a farmers meeting.
Meetings, by their very nature are they way they are. Fun is not exactly in the area of focus but somewhere in the background.
So, my friend, Jyotsana Di’s eyes wandered. Fell on a bunch of kids picking luscious jamuns from the trees. Now, you know. Climbing a jamun tree is never easy. I broke my ankle once. But these happy kids were not just on it, picking the jamuns straight they were also dancing, shaking the branches! J di was very J. Soon as the meeting finished she went to the boode tau sitting on a cot, having hookah and expressed her demand to buy the Jamuns.
Surprised, he asked her, “Kyun, Dilli me na mile hain?!” Don’t you get them in Delhi? She told him that these were very expensive in Delhi, some 40 Rs/kg (uss zamane me). “WhAtTTtt??!!!!” went Tau ji from Haryana, “Jamun is soldddDDd???!!!!” He budbuda-oed the hookah deeper to calm himself. And then told Jyotsana Di a lived story, an ancient folk tradition. In the village there is a custom.Whoever wants to celebrate, give blessings to, or thank, another person… he doesn’t just say it in words. He manifests it in action.
HOW? By planting a Jamun tree in the other person’s name!
Thus, Jamun is always given, gifted. It is never for oneself. Jyotsana di got herself gifted some Jamuns. Went back home. Offered some to Shri Ganesh. And then. It dawned upon her, the Ayurvedic doctor: Ganesh Ji is known by two names. Modakpriya. Jambupriya. Modak is sweet. And, Jambu ie Jamun, is the cure for sweets (diabetes).
Such are the intricate story weaves of Jambudweep, the land where Jamuns grow!
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