18 Comments

What a beautiful and poignant essay Vijeta, thank you for writing this. I'm not sure I'll look at fruit quite the same way again.

Expand full comment

I enjoyed this a great deal, thank you.

Expand full comment

Such beautiful words. Love this “So now, I take the briefest things he says to me and join the dots with everything else he doesn’t”.

Expand full comment

This was an effortless read. I don't know much about dalit fathers without fruits but I know of fathers who talk love only through fruits and icecreams. The line about stopping at 6,7,8. Orange in mouth is life anew, indeed.

Expand full comment

Beautiful.

Expand full comment

Wonderful, a beautifully told tale, thank you 🍊

Expand full comment

So good 👌🏽

Expand full comment

My grandfather also grew up very poor and hungry, and chocolate for him was like fruit for your dad. He’s been gone 18 years now, and I still think of his face when I eat any

Expand full comment

Beautiful, thank you. I can smell oranges. x

Expand full comment

Wonderful

Expand full comment

This was beautifully written, Vijeta!

Expand full comment

such evocative writing. and such a poignant marker of love and legacy and the irrevocable claims our childhoods have on our entire lives. thank you for this 💛

Expand full comment

I am reading this on a family pilgrimage to India, three months after my own father’s death. It’s so beautiful, round and evocative and reminds me of him. Thank you, Vijeta.

Expand full comment

So very beautiful. (Just a little disappointed that there was no no-recipe-testing disclaimer)

Expand full comment

Very moving especially these sentences “You should watch him eat an orange. He eats it as if it’s the last one on earth, as if he is eating it with the memory of not being able to eat one as a child, of never being able to forget what hunger is like.” Thank you.

Expand full comment

This is poignant and beautiful. Thank you 🙏🏻 🍊

Expand full comment