Nectarine and Amnesia

Each time I bite into a nectarine takes me back to the time when I had just arrived in America. This was the first fruit I ate that I had never tasted before. As the skin breaks in my mouth and the flavor of the fruit takes over, it triggers memories of long ago days. We would have been been married twenty years now - the man who introduced me to this country and modern Bengali poetry at the same time. There are many good memories of our brief time together for which I am grateful. 

The years have dulled the pain of the bad ones which had been more numerous and intense. It is fortunate that I don't have clear recollection of the irreparable disintegration of our marriage. My selective amnesia allows me to remember happier times - sharing a nectarine, unplanned road-trips, visiting yard-sales and listening to Bob Marley CDs in his beat-up car which was also the first one I ever drove. It was prone to inopportune over-heating and we would need to step out and let it cool off. To him, this was no big deal - just a minor quirk of an otherwise wonderful car. 

Such was his general demeanor about life too - one that I could not share, one that terrified and suffocated me at the same time. We saw in each other the art of possible in marriage and yet were such people that could have made another partner very happy but not each other.

It turns out there is this lovely poem about nectarines and amnesia.