Heavy with fruits, the lemon tree looked as if it was drooping. Planted some 10 years back, at last, this July it fruited. The fruits were huge and green, hanging like tiny Chinese lanterns. So huge that it fooled me into believing that it was something else. Maybe it is Malta, Tangerine or Orange. I knew I would have to wait till they ripened and the taste reveals what it really was.
Every week I would religiously stop by the plant admiring the fruits and waiting that they ripe and become yellow. I had to wait for nearly two months. In between, I did pluck one and tried squeezing it but it wouldn’t yield a tear of juice. I gave up after a couple of tries. Meanwhile, a heavy breeze which struck late at night felled the fruit-laden plant. I and Mangal did our best propping it up with scaffolds. Happy that we had done the needful!
Days later I picked a ripe yellow fruit and on tasting it realised that it was a lemon. A jumbo-sized lemon fit for an eight-member family not a three-member family, like mine. You’re unlikely to find such type of lemon in the market. So big, it would last a week. My farmer colleague, KG, calls it Id Nimboo.
Over a period of three weeks, I collected some fifty of them. Some came home and rest delivered to a friend who treasures them; squeezing them each morning into a glass with ginger and honey. Says she, “Each lasts me for a week.”
This weekend when I went to collect more I found that the leaves had browned and dry, and the branches looked lifeless. In short, the tree was dead. However, I found to my surprise that new shoots had made their appearance giving me hope that though it was playing the dirge it was pregnant with promise! In my quest to understand what the lemon gives I squeezed one after slicing it into eight pieces. I measured the juice it was around 200ml.