More than a decade ago, when I was in my first job, I lived in a small rented apartment along with two other roommates. One, was a childhood friend from school – let’s call him Tinu for now. The other was a Hyderabadi. The Hyderabadi, wasn’t a roommate by our choice – but ended up in our apartment due to a few strange circumstances. But that’s another story.
Hyderabadis, just in case you haven’t realized it yet, are pretty interesting characters. This one was no exception. He had this terribly annoying habit of crashing into every conversation with “Hamaare Hyderabad mein..“. So, if we were talking about biryanis, he would butt in with – “Biryani toh haamare Hyderabad mein miltaa hai…“. If we talked about movies, “Acting to Hyderabad mein Chiranjeevi karta hai“…. And so on. Everything I or Tinu had or could do, Hyderabadis could do it better.
Let’s get back to the story. It was one lazy Sunday afternoon – when we pooled money to buy a kilo of mangoes. Mangoes, for people like me were quite a luxury – and they were usually ridiculously priced. The rich man’s fruit, as I always thought of them. As I, Tinu and the friend from Hyderabad indulged in our mangoes, I casually told Tinu – “Lagtaa hai aam khaane ke liye ab udhaar lena padega.”.
The Hyderabadi, as usual, was quick to barge in. “Aam to hamaare Hyderabad mein milta hai. Hamaare yahaan ek special variety ka aam milta hai – bahut hi meetha. Poora yellow rang ka hota hai… aur usme chotey chotey kaale spots hotey hai“.
He paused for effect and then continued -”Hamaare yahaan usey Malgova kehte hai“.
My friend Tinu, first looked at me. Then looked at the Hyderabadi, and casually said – “Hamaare yahaan usey kela kehte hain“.
That was the last time we heard the Hamaare Hyderabad from him.
PS: I don’t recall the exact variety of mango he mentioned, but for convenience sake, I have called it the Malgova.