Ingrid Bergman’s Lips – The Education Of Jiggy (Part 2)

Jiggy got down from the car into the bright and green and fresh surroundings of Wai MIDC. It didn’t look like an industrial zone at all. There was too much green, and because industrialization automatically meant (in most minds) deforestation, the sight looked very strange to Jiggy. He was gestured to enter the factory where they manufactured the “first and finest” strawberry wine he had heard so much about.

He was escorted by the driver into the factory, where Charlie waited patiently for him. They shook hands firmly and measured each other up.

“Welcome to Wildberry Jiggy. I am Charlie.” Charlie said.

“Thank you Charlie, I am Jiggy.” said Jiggy, reintroducing himself. For no reason comprehensible.

Both walked into the factory where Charlie started explaining how wine was made, in detail. He took him to the place where they stored the fresh fruit. They walked into the temperature controlled room where fresh strawberries peeked from the top of the boxes they were held in. Jiggy salivated just at the sight of them. Maybe chai-biscuit isn’t the best tasting thing in the world. Maybe it holds far better surprises.

“Can I taste?” Jiggy asked.

“Of course! As much as you want!”

Jiggy contemplated taking a few of them and shoving them in his pockets, after he was done gorging on them, that is.

Picking up the signal as if he was the NSA, Charlie said,” Just as a gesture we will let you take a small box of them. Until them you are free to eat. “

Jiggy picked a full fruit from one of the cartons. It has the red shine so attractive; it seemed like the succulent red of a beautiful woman’s lips. Full lips.Strawberry-fruit-34914838-1600-1064

Jiggy bit into it and had to slurp to keep the juice in. ‘Strawberry or French kiss?’ thought Jiggy. The tang, the sweetness, felt so good. He realized how cheap the synthetic versions of the flavor, so omnipresent in the market nowadays, tasted like. This tasted like heaven. Or Ingrid Bergman’s lips.

The problem Jiggy realized is that all thought of gorging on it had disappeared from his mind. Fruit tasting like this should be treated with respect. Charlie saw the look of respect reflect from Jiggy’s face.

“You liked this?”

Jiggy nodded, like an innocent girl on her wedding night.

“Wait till you drink the wine. THAT’S the real deal.”