Fruit of thorns! Ouch!

I have a confession to make. I am a confirmed diabetic and I am not supposed to consume foods and drinks that are sugary. In addition, I have been strongly advised by the folks around, who know of my condition, to strictly avoid foods and drinks such as ice cream, cakes, sweets, gassed drinks, (like my favourites - sarsi and cococola) rice to an extent, sugared drinks - tea, coffee, etc., including even my darling chendol! (the coconut milk, brown sugar, chendol leaf drink).

Fruits to avoid were durians (number 1 in the list, but last in my willingness to avoid!) bananas, chikus, etc. To emphasize my love for the durians, here is a short anecdote! Once upon a time, not long ago,  I drove out with my then 24-year-old son to the Taiping ‘airport’. See, ‘airport’ is in the inverted commas? This is because, practically, you will find no aeroplanes or helicopters there, even if you strolled along there the umpteenth time. Not even a pitiful kite, mind you! Birds, yes, but who goes to airports to see birds! Well, here in the Taiping ‘airport’, you will only see the dilapidated buildings that stand as testimonies of the place having been used during the colonial times for military purposes.

You see, we had heard news from friends that parachute jumpings were going on at the ‘airport’. And we decided to make it our immediate destination. My son, having turned into a photograph enthusiast recently, armed himself with his Nikon camera and we were on our way! We reached the place in 20 minutes’ time.

Yes, a helicopter was there! But the front part of the helicopter (sorry, the actual word refuses to come into my mind) had already been covered by a canopy, indicating that the proceedings of the day had ended, and perhaps, indeed the whole affair, since we also saw things being carried onto a lorry. The two big tanks attached to the side of the copter had clear big writings on them, stating BOMBA. Oh, so it was the fire and rescue department having its training. I asked my son to take a photo of the helicopter, for all our trouble. He did not want to demean his pet camera by snapping at a hooded helicopter! He, however, obliged me with his hand phone.

Having failed in our venture, we started to drive back to our house. Now being the durian season, there were durian stalls at every odd corners of the roads. We passed one. The sweet, strong smell of the durians was too much for me to bear. I asked my son of about buying some durians. My son, bless his soul, he being no less crazy for durians than I am, immediately nodded his head. That was it! The green signal has been given! Be it a flimsy excuse! The car stopped and out I went. And in came a bunch of sweet smelling durians! They emitted the pungent smell in the car all the way home. Who cared? I cared! I adored the smell!

For the non-Malaysian readers of this blog, the Latin name for the fruit is Durio zibethinus. Durians are round to oval shaped fruits, more or less about the size of a soccer ball, with their husks having greenish to greenish-yellow colours. The sharp and thick thorn like husks envelop the mostly white to yellowish fleshy fruits inside. The aroma emitted by the fruits is not far from smell of ammonia gas. It is more on the sweeter side of ammonia gas. Sweeter side of ammonia gas? Ha! Ha! That's a good one! But boy! Don’t the Malaysians love it! Well, ...ahem...maybe not all Malaysians.

We reached home. My mother and wife were excited to see the durians, but they did not show it, their excitement, I mean, on their faces. They were afraid to show it, lest it would encourage me to bring home more durians in future, they being the first ones to have implored me not to consume sweet foodstuffs. Their actions proved otherwise. A knife to split open the durians, a clean cloth to hold on to the durian while splitting and the spread of old newspapers on the floor within such a short period were a giveaway! Well, who can avoid devouring the all-compelling durians? Durians, being kings, we can only make confessions.