The Tale of My Mango Tree - By Aditi Kishore Kumar

Written By: Aditi Kishore Kumar

Category: Personal Essay

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

Aditi Kishore Kumar graces us with her evocative personal essay, "The Tale of My Mango Tree," submitted to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. In this beautifully nostalgic piece, Aditi takes us on a heartfelt journey through the years, as seen through the lens of a cherished mango tree planted in the year of her birth. This essay not only captures the essence of childhood memories but also reflects on the passage of time and the intertwining journeys of nature and human life.

About the Work

"The Tale of My Mango Tree" is a poignant reflection on childhood, memory, and the passage of time. Aditi Kishore Kumar masterfully weaves a tapestry of recollections, highlighting the mango tree as a silent witness to her life's milestones. The narrative is rich with vivid imagery and emotion, evoking a sense of nostalgia and appreciation for the simple joys and lessons imparted by nature. This eloquent essay invites readers to reflect on their own relationships with the natural world and the memories they hold dear.

The Tale of My Mango Tree

Original Submission by Aditi Kishore Kumar

The Tale of My Mango Tree

There once was a mango tree, as old as me, planted the year of my birth by my grandmother when she saw me smile for the first time. Maybe she thought that one day when I’m in a temper, its sweet mangoes would nurse my fury. And in the overpowering heat of the sun, there was always the prospect of mangoes. This tree has braved many storms but its supple branches with the perseverance of the young always spring back up. Its fallen leaves turning brown just as new ones spring.

Every year during the holidays, when my cousins and I would troop off to my grandma’s house, this tree held for us a new wonder. It never occurred to any of us that our summer games were part of a journey but thinking back, weren’t they? We humans, so preoccupied with the busy journeys of our own lives, often overlook the fact that every flower, every fern, is on a journey of its own.

My earliest memory of this tree comes from a photograph of me next to it, as a one-year-old girl with a yellow sun hat perched atop my head, and a huge grin on my face. My majestic tree no more than a plant in its earliest years.

I next remember my mango tree as a five-year-old. Tagging along with my grandma as she tended to her beloved flowerbeds, I saw my tree and fell in love with it. When my cousins and I played pretend, this tree was the sun to our orbit, but not just anyone could play with my tree. Only if you were my friend could you be my tree’s friend.

The summer of the next year came and so did I, rushing back to my mango tree. And that year my mango tree did something miraculous - it bore its first fruit. I still remember the mangoes of that summer, how succulent they were, how we’d bitten off the cap and sucked out the pulp, how our clothes were stained a permanent yellow and a scent of ripe mangoes filled the house.

The next year, my tree had grown, its branches sturdier, that year I climbed a tree for the first time. So, immensely proud of my achievement, I scrawled my name atop a branch in my unsure hand. I never found that branch again.

The following summer, my tree had atop its branches a surprise; a swing. The swing was henceforth the hub of all activity and waking up early became a habit so that I could claim it as my territory for the day.

The ensuing year, the trunk of my tree had grown in breadth, and hide-and-seek became a new favourite. The tree kept me company in the mornings when I’d sit on the swing looking up at the green foliage, my feet toying with the fallen leaves.

The next year, I didn’t see my tree. Covid came, travel was restricted and my tree and I were separated. As we grew older, the importance of my tree in our games diminished and the tree became only a character in our memories, our swing nearly forgotten.

It’s raining in the desert today. The roads are flooded, schools closed. Somewhere a bird calls, a flower blooms. But back at home, the soil under my mango tree grows warm. The birds have fallen silent, the flowers have lost their life.

The deserts are freezing over,

Dunes turning to ice,

And the forests, they burn,

And smoke replaces

The swarms of butterflies.

* Aditi Kishore Kumar

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, hosted by Hashtag Kalakar, is a prestigious event that celebrates creativity and expression in the written word. Participants from around the world are invited to share their unique voices across various categories, fostering a global community of writers. This competition provides a platform for emerging and established writers alike to showcase their talent and connect with a wider audience.

We extend our heartfelt gratitude to Aditi Kishore Kumar for sharing "The Tale of My Mango Tree" with us. This beautiful essay, submitted to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, offers a touching glimpse into the life and memories associated with a beloved mango tree. Thank you, Aditi, for inviting us into your world and reminding us of the enduring bond between nature and memory.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.