When Cashews Bridged the Silence......

 When Cashews Bridged the Silence......

It was the month of May, and for the first time, we were experiencing the blistering summer heat of Konkan. Despite the sweltering weather, I was overjoyed—my UGC selection had come through, and that too from Mumbai University. Mahesh shared in my happiness wholeheartedly. Around the same time, he had immersed himself deeply in his Ph.D. research, working with renewed vigor.

By then, we had been working together at GIT for nearly eight to nine months—enough time to forge a strong and meaningful professional bond. Since it was our first time teaching communication skills, we were constantly experimenting with new ideas and methods. Our shared passion for pedagogy, rooted in our respective research interests, naturally brought us closer as colleagues.

Most of our conversations revolved around research and innovative teaching strategies. We often found ourselves brainstorming, exchanging ideas, and challenging each other’s perspectives. But one day, in the middle of a discussion, I tried to explain something, and Mahesh abruptly dismissed it without listening. I was hurt by his reaction and, in response, chose to stay silent. Though he made a couple of attempts to talk, I remained distant—and eventually, he too withdrew.

For nearly three to four days, we maintained an awkward silence, even while sharing the same cabin.

Then came Sunday, our usual day for a little respite. As always, Ashwini, Anshu Sir, Patil Sir, Mahesh and I gathered at the language lab before heading to the mess for lunch. Sundays were special—we’d get to enjoy a non-veg meal, and the thought of that lifted everyone’s spirits, mine included.

Everyone in the group had sensed the silence between Mahesh and me. At one point, Ashwini even asked if we had fought—but we both simply smiled and said nothing.

Each evening, on our way to the mess, we passed a stretch of cashew trees. Since it was May, the trees were bursting with red and yellow fruits. I was telling Ashwini how sweet and juicy they were, and how much I loved eating them.

Up ahead, Mahesh and Anshu Sir were walking together. Anshu pointed out the fruits, but Mahesh didn’t seem impressed. Still, because Anshu wanted to try them, the two of them started looking for a way to reach the higher branches.

Soon, Mahesh spotted a long bamboo stick lying by the roadside. He picked it up and began nudging the fruit-laden branches. With a swift push, a few of those bright, juicy cashews dropped to the ground. I saw one land right in Mahesh’s hand—and in that moment, I forgot we weren’t on speaking terms.

Without thinking, I ran up to him and blurted out, “Mahesh! Shall we wash it properly and eat it with a little salt?” He burst out laughing and said, “It’s mine! I’m not sharing it—especially not with someone who hasn’t spoken to me for three or four days!” I smirked and shot back, “That’s a separate issue altogether. Right now, we’re talking about that cashew—and I want a bite.”

Without saying much, Mahesh simply handed me the fruits. When we reached the mess, I gave them a good wash, sprinkled a little salt, and relished every bite. Everyone enjoyed the treat—but they couldn’t stop laughing at how I managed to get those cashews in the first place.

Even today, whenever I ask Mahesh for something, he teases me by saying, “Mahesh, shall we eat these cashews after washing them properly and adding some salt?”—mimicking my exact words from that day. And just like before, I respond with the same innocent look that got me those fruits in the first place. 😂