Radished on a Train and Some More

Pink on the outside and shiny white on the inside,aftermath of her happiness. We pulled all the
the little olive-shaped radishes glistened in the bowlwindows of the carriage open and walked as far
that the laoban's (boss's) wife placed before me. Iaway as we could from her when the second
dithered for a moment before I picked one andburp followed and then a third...She couldn't stop
placed it gingerly into my mouth.Radishes haveburping and all we could do was choke...and since
always brought back bad memories and for yearsthat memorable day radishes have been a strict
I haven't touched anything that included them. Ino-no for me and my brother. My sister fell prey
mean, I wouldn't touch any food that had theto its seductive charm some time ago but still
faintest hint of radish.I must have been ten and Idesists from letting herself go after it, choosing to
was on a train with my younger brother andrestrict herself to a small share.Brother and I
sister on our way back home from school inhave been unrelenting in our resolve to keep far
Jaipur in western India. Our mother's aunt was onaway from anything radish.But, today, I fell prey
the train with us. Each time the train stopped at ato its olive-shaped, pink-hued avatar in far-away
station she would buy something from theChina. I must have had a bit more than my
hawkers - fruits, tea, the odd snacks andmother's aunt did that fateful day on a train from
radishes. We sniggered each time she got off, herJaipur. And, I am burping, too...but, thankfully, there
ample derriere on her short frame swinging wildlyare no children around to kill me with a disgusted
from the exercise, a picture that her sweetestlook nor is there any one else who will learn from
smile cannot erase from our joint memories - inme never to indulge in the pleasures of
part because of itself and in part because of theradish-flesh. I wonder if the air around me smells
radishes.She bought a bunch of squeaky white,as poisoned as it did on that train...i wonder if
nearly foot long, juicy-looking radishes. And,Chinese radish is as sweet to smell as it is to
before that train started from the station, shetaste...Rajesh Kanoi (Jack) is a published writer,
had buried her teeth into the juicy flesh of one.now living and working in China. Many of his
The three of us politely declined her offer,short-stories, poems and articles have been
preferring more interesting food than thosepublished, including a book of short-stories, 'From
radishes.Minutes later she let go a very satisfiedChina With Love' (Lipstick Publishing).
burp and we all gasped, almost choking in the