Last night, as I watched a YouTube video, the backdrop featured white wax jambu trees in a field. Seeing those Jambu flowers took me back to my childhood visits to my friend J's home.

During my childhood, I often went to J's place on weekends to play video games. Afterward, we would head to the nearby playground to play cricket with his local friends. When we returned, we would wash up using the outdoor tap next to a huge white wax jambu tree in J's backyard.

During peak season, that tree was laden with jambu fruits. Being curious kids, J's aunt or mother would help us pick the fruits using a long-handled fruit picker. Mostly, his aunt assisted us, gently guiding us to the ripest jambus high in the tree branches.

J's aunt was like family to me. Though older than our mothers, she had never married. She doted on her nephew J and always welcomed me, addressing me affectionately as "mone" which means son in Malayalam. I fondly remember weekends spent at their home, enjoying her delicious home-cooked meals.

Fast forward several years after I moved away for college. J called me with devastating news - his beloved aunt had been diagnosed with cancer. I was in shock. During my next weekend visit home, my mother and I made a trip to see her. Sadly, not long after, the cancer took her life. Losing someone so full of life and love at a young age was deeply distressing.

Last night, as I gazed at those white jambu flowers on my screen, memories of that gem of a lady and our carefree childhood days flooded me with profound nostalgia and sorrow. Jambus will always be a poignant reminder of happier times and that kind soul who left us too soon.