A Tryst with ‘Carmbola’

"If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome"— Anne Bradstreet

 ‘Karmbala Torro’ is what we call it in Konkani. It is a pickle and my Mother in law pickles it wonderfully well. Whenever we visit Tiruvalla, I find bottles of these stacked to be devoured during our stay and carry  some to Pune, which lasts a few months reminding us of our visit. ‘Karambal’ is small, juicy and sour with ridges known as ‘Carmbola’ in English, commonly known as Star fruit. The  Scientific name is Averrhoa carambola. Star fruit is a small, bushy evergreen tree that grows very well under hot, humid, tropical conditions. Carambola is native to Malayan peninsula and cultivated in many parts of Southeast Asia, Pacific islands and China for its fruits. Although abundant and plentiful, carambola is yet to gain popularity, especially in the western world.(Wikipedia) The fruit is a rich source of potassium and vitamin C and can reduce high blood pressure. Apart from the medicinal value we love it for the tangy pickle made from it.

                   

 At Tiruvalla in Kerala, we have a huge tree whose produce is low, but my sister in law’s parents at Thamanam near Cochin own many ‘Carmbola’ plants. She brings a lot of these pickled and green to Tiruvalla. Knowing my love my mother in law pickles these to preserves it. This year my sister in law’s father died and the trees were cut down as the tree is also an abode for the hairy black caterpillars, which creep on your body causing rashes from itchiness.

          My sisters love the pickle. My sister who is just a couple of years older is an excellent cook and loves eating such delicacies. When I told her that my husband was making a quick trip to Kerala she said, ‘ Can you send me some Karmbala Torro’? I agreed to it as there are friends who are regularly visiting Hyderabad. It so happened that we had a friend working for RBI passing through Pune from Mumbai. The train reaches Pune at 4.30pm, but we reached Pune station at 4.00pm. It was sunny and pleasant.

  We took our platform tickets and climbed the overhead bridge to locate the platform where the train would halt. There were various electronic messages being shown. The overhead bridge was bustling with people who were watching the electronic messages understanding where they had to move. We stood in a corner for half an hour, but there was no electronic message given for Mumbai Hyderabad express. I heard a lady say platform number 4. I coaxed my husband and moved to platform number four. Even after the Cleanliness Drive by the Prime Minister, the platform  and the station were in a very unclean state. I was getting restless but clung to the bag of ‘karmbala Torro’. There were groups of people resting on the floor, a few eating oblivious to the dirty surroundings, a few reading newspaper peacefully and many more waiting for the local train. There were scrap pickers with many little children who rolled on the ground, drank water, ate food with their grubby hands and played while their young mother sipped a cup of tea. I wondered whether lifebuoy handwash could work on these soiled hands. The stalls were filled with people buying books, mineral water and goodies for their journey. We looked at another electronic message which said ‘Pune station welcomes you’. 

The train was late, but then there was an announcement at 4.50 pm instructing people to move to platform no.6 to board the Hyderabad express from Mumbai. People rushed to ascend the stairs leading to the overhead bridge again to reach platform no 6. We too rushed to climb the stairs as the ‘Karmbala Torro’ needed to be given for sure. My husband pacified me saying we could courier it, let the people with the luggage move ahead. We saw the old,  the young and children climb the stairs perilously. I felt I was being pushed up to the next stair involuntarily as the crowd was  a huge one, but they were moving on steadily. I glanced above and below me to see nothing beyond people, it was a mob. Pictures of stampede skimmed through my head and lo behold there was a youngster who gave everyone a rough push, the old and young  and everyone using his suitcase and bags with the smug smile and climbed ahead. There was a total imbalance and I felt a secure hand balancing me. I knew it was my husband. He  smiled back as we slowly made our way. I was thoroughly annoyed, but he was enduring as ever.We handed the Karmbala Torro to our friend and wearily moved back again to the overhead bridge. I saw college and school children on an excursion, the crowd was the same but I could hear peals of laughter as they pushed themselves through the crowd. We gazed at them for long realising that any circumstance turns pleasant when we have the capacity to comprehend the situation uncomplainingly and if we have the ability to transform the perception in our mind towards positivity.

"The road that is built in hope is more pleasant to the traveler than the road built in despair, even though they both lead to the same destination." — Marion Zimmer Bradley