Dilliwale: Jamunji, Latest Sequel | latest news delhi


Don’t go ahead Here’s the talk of the city’s weather. He is everywhere. With vendor Sant Ram in Jangpura, south Delhi, with vendor Kailash at a deserted bus stop in Gurugram’s Carterpuri, and with vendor Prakash, elsewhere in Carterpuri. These are also found in Ghaziabad – at the weekly vegetable market in Sector 6, Vasundhara, on returning from a shopping expedition with her husband, Pushpa Singh said that the berries are selling at Rs 100 per kg. Yet he bought half of that amount, admiring the “khat madra (sour-sweet)” taste of the jamun.

Seller Bharat Singh says that the berries come with the rains, and will be gone in about a month. He is selling them in Sector 15 of Gurugram for Rs 130 a kg. * Dark blue berries are piled on his cart like sand dunes in the desert. Incense sticks are lit “to avoid flies”. Sweating profusely on a sultry afternoon, the hawker says that just a week ago he was selling coconut pieces. “These jamuns are from Agra, they get them from the market… in 2-3 days I will get jamuns from Punjab, who are juicers.”

It’s good to patronize jamun hawkers, but you can also pick berries for free. These days, many of Delhi’s streets look like blood-soaked battlefields, with tiny pulpy fruits that fall from trees, their inners and purple juices oozing out from the feet of pedestrians. This is especially true of tree-heavy central Delhi paved – routes on Subramanya Bharati Marg for example, especially the section running along Rabindra Nagar. In Connaught Place, en block outside the metro, a tree is crowded with berries. On Dr Rajendra Prasad Road, a hawker is seen sitting under a jamun tree with a basket of jamuns (sitting on an empty soft drink crate).

One recent afternoon, the otherwise lifeless park was filled with men in a posh ‘hood. He placed a blue tarpaulin under a jamun tree, as one of the members of the crowd began thrashing the branches with a long steel rod. The berries fell like a hailstorm.

Interestingly, Delhi’s great mango lover poet Mirza Ghalib has remained silent on the jamuns. Sitting in his office, Ghalib Academy secretary Aqeel Ahmed instead read a couple of couplets from Josh Malihabadi (about whom he wrote his thesis) dedicated to Jamun. Here’s one:

These are scattered swirls, these are black berries

This is Gulshan, this is the decrease of Sawan

[These dispersed hair are black jamun

Like the rain clouds spread upon the orchard.]