Mango Maniac

Luscious, juicy, sweet mangoes. King of fruits. Delicacies of Gods. My Achilles’ heel.As I slurp on an Alphonso, the king of kings, I wonder if Eve had offered Adam a mango instead of an apple, would the concept of ‘sin’ be different.

As I suck up a perfectly ripened Kesar, I wonder if a falling mango would have given Issac Newton a higher understanding of life, instead of the concept of gravity.

I slice a big Malgoba for a round of daiquiris, I wonder if people compared apples and oranges with mangoes, would it cause less confusion.

I skin a bunch of Rajapuri mangoes to make mango shake, and wonder if a mango a day, could keep the undertaker away.

I gather ripe Jemadari mangoes from under the tree, and wonder if there is an Indian entrepreneur willing to take on Steve Jobs’ Apple and swamp the world with the best in personal electronics aka Mango.

I gobble up a delicious serving of mango soufflé, and go to bed wondering if anyone has done a study on the effects of this luscious fruit on one's sex life. It certainly has done wonders to mine.

UN - screwed!

Storms and heavy rain drown the hottest summer in Bangkok. ‘Confused-climate’ was my tuk-tuk driver’s simple explanation, and just to impress me with his English he adds “all screwed” ! I arrive at the UN building wet but safe, to attend the 3rd working group meeting of the IPCC.
Scientists and experts have gathered here to find an answer to his confusion, otherwise known as climate change. For next four days, I sit in the last row, watching hundreds of delegates from all UN member nations including ‘Sao Tome and Principe’ discuss, deliberate, debate and dictate the final summary for policy makers that will help the world ‘mitigate’ climate change.
Bullet by bullet, para by para, line by line, every country gets a chance to exercise its right to semantics. But I am not allowed to speak, I am here as an observer; I ask if I am allowed to scream, and I am ticked off again. So I step out to eavesdrop on breakaway informal groups, I sneak into the contact group meetings; I drink more coffee than I should, just so that I can follow the US delegation around.
I flirt with a gorgeous woman from the Republic of Molodova, but her English and my moldovian does not mix very well. I step out to smoke and ask the Liberians if they have availed the free shuttle bus from the official hotel to Patpong and they tell me ‘bah, all these temples look the same’. I go to the men’s room and stand next to the delegate from Tuvalu, and ask him how long before all their islands sink, the gentleman shakes his thing and says don’t be too smug dude…we are all screwed.
I am beginning to get the drift so return to the plenary to find the Indian delegate aggressively debating the need for inclusion of ‘lifestyle changes’ in the non-technical mitigation options. Great Indian rope trick? No, must be the Great Indian rhetoric, whatever it is, there is a consensus on inclusion and the chair brings down the gavel and opens the next line for deliberation, debate, dismissal…(for more information www.ipcc.ch)