Memories of Mulberry


Mulberry. Most commonly found tree in the subcontinent and usually associated with a variety of silk. But for most people who have known the tree since childhood cannot forget its fruit which is borne in the month of April. The fruit which reminds me of a caterpillar can be found in various colours – white/green, red/ maroon. The sweetness varies depending on the rain, sunlight and of course the variety.

My earliest memory of the mulberry dates to the time when I was about 7 or 8 years old. A mulberry tree with its wide canopy shaded the backyard. Come April and the fruits would start falling on the veranda. Every morning and evening the veranda would be washed so that the mulberries would be clean. The tree would now be a host to variety of birds, bees, ants during daytime and bats at night. I would race back home from school to change and then scoot barefeet to the veranda to have my pick of the reddest mulberries. Yummmm…..

One weekend, it was particularly hot and everyone at home was sleeping in the afternoon. A friend and I, both restless and bored, decided to shake a few low lying branches to have some mulberries. But alas we could reach none of the branches. It was decided that all possible means should be brought together to be able to reach the branches. So first we put a layer of broken bricks, lying all around the compound. Then the old stool in the kitchen was placed under the tree, but that didn’t help either. We brought a smaller stool from the bathroom and placed it on the old stool. It seemed tall enough.

Being the older one, I volunteered to climb up. I think I just wanted to have the mulberries first. I managed to get on the stools somehow and grabbed hold of a low lying branch. What a treasure!! There were hundreds of juicy maroon/ blood red mulberries waiting to be plucked. I started plucking them but couldn’t resist and popped a few in my mouth. Soon my face and hands were stained purple. By this time my friend was impatient. I collected a few in my hand to pass them down and placed my hand on a neighbouring branch for support. Alas, my hand landed on a chameleon – Yuck! My frightened scream would have woken up the entire neighbourhood. I lost my balance and fell down. My left arm landed on the broken bricks and my arm was broken too and had to be put in a plaster. We were banned from going again to the backyard in the afternoons unsupervised. But even now when I see a mulberry tree, I can’t resist but stop and pick a few of the fallen ones.

2 thoughts on “Memories of Mulberry

  1. Greatly put together it rekindles my own love affair with mulberry or what we call in hills Shahtoot or simply Toot. I too enjoy the shade and fruits of big mulberry tree we have at our backyard in Morni hills .


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