A rapper belting a philosophical ode to mangoes. A crowd devouring juicy fruit, some happy to share, others guarding their slices. Buckets overflowing with different varieties like Dudhiya Malda, Chausa and Kesari. These were the reels from the Mango Party in Delhi’s Lodhi Garden last week.
Ravinder Singh, dressed in a mango-motif shirt and a bright yellow turban with a sarpech (turban-ornament) adorned with mango-shaped jewels, thanked the attendees. Singh has organised a mango party every year since 2022, but many Delhites on Instagram encountered the festivities for the first time.
“If there’s anything strange and whimsical happening in a geographically reasonable proximity, we’ll be there,” declared creator Ria Chopra in a reel. “Mango eating party? We’re there. And we’re wearing yellow for the vibes.”
The existence of a mango party is too bewildering for many to believe.
“First in my bloodline to get FOMO from missing a mango party,” says another person under Singh’s fit check for the party.
The party is but one yummy chapter in the mango madness that grips India every summer. Memes flood social media, restaurants launch elaborate mango-themed menus, and the same passionate debate is revived once again: Is Alphonso really all that?
In the Viral Spiral of India’s Mango Mania, we don’t merely eat the ‘king of fruits’—we love to fight over it. It is the country’s most complicated summer situationship.
Reels debate the “correct” way to eat one. Purists insist on eating it directly off the seed, hands dripping with sweet, sticky nectar. Did you even eat a mango if you didn’t make a mess?
But the best way to enjoy a mango is to fight over how your favourite is superior to other varieties. With over 1,500 varieties in the country, the fight is unending. If you ask anyone around (even if you don’t), they’ll tell you why their mango is better than yours.
“Bengapalli >> Badaam >> Alphonso >> Kesar >> Dushhera >> Langda >> Totapuri,” ranked Suraj Kumar Talreja in a recent post on X.
The comments were ripe with disagreement. “Kabhi Mallika try karo, sab bhool jaoge (Try Mallika once, you’ll forget everything else),” read one.
Also read: Kesar & Alphonso star in San Francisco’s 4th annual mango party. 200 people attended
Who’s the king?
Alphonso purists will tell you nothing else qualifies as a real mango. Ignore them.
If we’re being real, I would personally recommend switching mangoes with watermelons instead. Now I know it is ironic to say this after writing so much about mangoes, but have you ever had a cold cube of a juicy watermelon after a long summer day? Yeah, that’s the real summer treat. Mangoes are an overrated mess.
Those who missed the party in Delhi are lamenting, already longing for the next year, while attendees share fond, sticky memories. For those willing to make a trip, he’s hosting one in Bhopal on 5 July.
Singh is also working to release a song that he has dedicated to his one true love: Mangoes.
India and mangoes are a tale as old as time. From Buddhist and Vedic writings to Khusrau and Ghalib to the journals of Chinese traveller Hiuen Tsang, India’s Mango Mania spans centuries. Open any novel by a desi writer, and you’ll find mango somewhere in the first chapter.
Even American popstar Ariana Grande knows the equation. In 2019, she quoted Sufi poet Amir Khusrau in a tweet and wrote:
“He visits my town once a year.
He fills my mouth with kisses and nectar.
I spend all my money on him.
Who, girl, your man?
No, a mango.”
My love affair with the mango began with the Slice ad—Katrina Kaif seductively biting into the flesh of a plump yellow mango. That moment was one of two awakenings, and the newfound love for mango was the less interesting one.
Views are personal.
(Edited by Theres Sudeep)