Some obsessions look ordinary from the outside.

But inside?

They’re ritual, tether, even sacrament.

I’ve watched creatives, dreamers, physicists, singers, and everyday workers treat dried mangoes not as snacks but as sacred companions...a kind of chewable sunlight that holds them steady between chaos and infinity.

For some, it was survival.

For others, rebellion.

For one physicist, it was the only thing that kept him human while his mind touched the divine.

This isn’t really about mangoes.

It’s about hunger, ritual, devotion, and the strange ways people anchor themselves to meaning.

Sometimes fascination doesn’t need comprehension. Sometimes mystery is enough.

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