Paths studded with red

A tiny little seed that is inconspicuous, yet commands attention.
For most of us, the manjadikuru or the little red seed is a reminder of our childhood. Most of us have a memory that is linked to them.
Mine is of a tall crystal jar, filled to the brim with the manjadikuru my grandmother had collected over the years. Perched on top of a tall cabinet, it was out of my reach. And, need I say, that very fact made it all the more appealing!
So one day I scaled the cabinet, an eagle eye on the kitchen door where my grandmother was busy with the afternoon`s cooking. I reached the top, dipped my hands into the sea of red – then a slip, a tilt, and I came crashing down in a cascade of clattering seeds.
The noise brought my grandmother barrelling out of the kitchen. I expected a smack and hours of sitting in a corner. However, surprisingly, she understood a little girl`s curiosity, and my grandmother joined me on the floor, to hunt down every last seed, even as she told me anecdotes of how she had collected them.
This trip down memory lane came thanks to Anjali Menon`s Manjadikuru, which promises to take you back to your childhood days. And it has struck a chord with many; not just me.
People have been sharing their memories – from green-tinged days when they coveted the seeds their friends possessed to idyllic flashes of running down paths studded with red.
Surya lives in Chennai now. She describes herself as

“A bookworm, a foodie and a movie buff, I am quite happy in the world of make believe! And when I am forced to be in the ‘real’ world, I work as an Associate Editor at”


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