Someone gave me a basket of fruits. Now, that's a very thoughtful gift. I really don't like those plaques, vases, clothings,paintings, (unless by notable artists ) or other knick knacks. My room is full of those 'cenderhati'. Books are fine. Fruits are also fine. Fruits are healthy and there's no problem of storage. Once consumed, the body knows what to do. But why has there to be 2 big guavas in the basket? I can't stand guava. To me guava evokes memories of my childhood when we had to pick baskets of those fruits and send them to the local fruiter. He would weigh them, made disparaging remarks on the quality of our fruits and proceeded to dole out the coins in payment. The coins were invariably sticky ones. I used to cringe as I picked up those pieces of silver. It was so humiliating!! I hate those over ripe guava - they stink! Worse of all, we had to squish the fruits, the seeds oozing out and throw them in the pig's swirl. Yuks!! Double Yuks!! I hate guavas. I hate the sickening smell of over ripe guavas.
5 comments:
I solved part of the guava "problem" by consuming it for her straight away! Now I am thinking what should I do with the second one!
Wow mum... I had no idea you felt so strongly against guavas! Especially since we seem to eat them at decent intervals during our childhood
I hate guava too! Grandma used to force me to climb up the trees to pick them, and I had to fight with the birds who consumed them, some half eaten guava hanging on the trees, with the seeds oozing out. When I touched them the smell of guave lingers for days on my fingers. I hated the smell, even those big green ones.
I used to spend hours up the trees picking them, and had to wash them, carted them to that Teo Chew man who sold fruits and Ice Kachang. The wife is not too bad, but the husband would always devalue the fruit I carted in,so he can justify not to pay us good price.
I used to work for hours and grandma would give me 10cents, and 10cents to the author of this column and my younger brother. One day I realised that I have been underpaid, and those who did not work were given pocket money; I protested (young unionist,I am) my pay went up to 20 cents. Thinking back, it was still child labour...too late to protest as grandma has gone. Now you know why I hate guava...and those childhood memories haunted me....!
Alicia, you WERE PAID 20 cents! I got 5 cents only ! That's pay discrimination.
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