Pomegranate Elixir
Tuptim in Thai translates
as “pomegranates” a symbol of fertility
Pomegranates are the sacred fruit presented to the Gods of ancient times.
Those in the secret fought for growing the best Pomegranates.
Found originally from Mesopotamia; its beginnings
ran the route of Turkey across Persia and along
The Himalayan Valley.
The debate continues today of which variety has the reddest, luscious
and packed with the largest seeds.
Presented to Egyptian Gods, Pomegranates are known for fertility, abundance and life after death.
Enough history.
My preferred choice would be of the Himalayan Valley variety, for its sand and soil is of equal depth which never disappoints, hard to find in S.E. Asia.
A longing to drink some Pomegranate Elixir I decided to phone my Persian school friend Fila, who travels the world, and resides in Mumbai. Her father at 92, her only family member left, serves as a Mullah in Bagdad, provides this Elixir at his Mosque.
Fila denounced me for being ancient, and old fashioned; said she doesn’t know anyone who drinks it anymore, except her father, who still supplies this to the local Mosques in his area.
“What’s a Buddhist like you interested in make-believe that its God’s wine? you guys philosophize in Karma, much more sustainable” her remark jolted me, but still longing for the taste, she sent me the recipe.
Remembered times of gulping the exquisite Elixir after forcing down Lamb’s eye at a dinner in Baghdad, helping my father, the honored guest, from not regurgitating in full view. For King and Country and father’s honor, it was an eye-to-eye combat, helping me to win, was the Elixir.
Thailand grows its own version, seedy and pink with little juice. The terrain is not suitable to compete with Persian soil. Available are second-best Indian variety grown in China, so I sat down and patiently started to peel away. It was the most appealing sensation that required focus, combined with 80’s and 90’s music blaring through ear pods, the afternoon was mine to behold.
Dates, Figs and Walnuts usually packed plus bottles of Elixir, was all the food needed, if lost in the desert. As the cooking commenced, the aroma permeated my condo and escaped through door-gaps into the narrow corridor of 10th floor. Mixed with aromatic saffron, cinnamon, with intermittent wafts of rosemary, fellow neighbors heard commenting as they pass.
The five bottles of 300ml had a cool temporary home in the top shelf of my Mitsubishi fridge.
