There are two fruits I shoot nostalgically for their photogenic essence Tadgolas and Jambuls ,,
But Jambuls trigger a sad story of my childhood ,when I stayed at Khatau Bhuvan Wodehouse Road ,,most of my friends those days were Tamil boys who lived in the Servants quarters at Military Compound opposite our house,, ,My mother was not very happy with this group of my friends I must have been 10 year old that time ..
I had one friend I was very close to he had a few brothers his name was Panji and he loved getting into trouble , he climbed mango trees to rob mangos and I would collect the below ,, once we got caught he ran away leaving the mangos in my hands the Mali gardener dragged me home , my dad was in a wild mood he beat the shit and almost broke my hooked nose ,
So Panji made me his partner in such escapades , one day he asked me to come with him to climb the Jambul tree behind the Military Quarters old buildings near Port Trust and Sassoon Dock ..My mom had given me some work so I was unable to go with him, but I could not climb trees my job was to gather the fallen fruits down below and get a share from Panji ,
When I finished the work I reached the place where Panji had called me , there was a huge crowd cops Panjis parents brothers crying Panji had fallen from the Jambul tree died on the spot , his body was taken in an ambulance much before I arrived only blood and his brains ,, were left of my dear friend Panji..
So when I eat Jambuls.. I remember my childhood friend its been over 50 years now .. and I have not stopped shooting Jambuls ,,
