People on the road selling karvand, mangoes and jackfruit. The lilting language that makes me listen to the tune rather than the meaning. The dark sand and the crashing waves.
And Mane’s International School was beautiful. It’s a small school as of now, just a baby. There are mango trees everywhere, and the principal spoke of how the children run round and round the trees as they play. Apparently, the rains night before last made the mangoes come crashing down, but until then, the boughs were heavy with fruit!
On the way to Ratnagiri, we stopped to buy karvand, offered to us in cups made of velvety leaves.
(What a city person I am! I don’t know what leaves they were …)
What was most charming was that each cup of fruit cost ten rupees. Some of the leaves were small, with the cups holding barely a dozen berries. Some were huge, with over thirty! But the rate was the same – 10 rupees for one leaf cup. And so we bought two drastically different cups and continued our journey to …