It was while I was squishing goopy, pungent tamarind pulp through
my fingers that I discovered this fruit’s incredible seeds. Normally, at least in
my house, seeds of any kind get discarded with the rest of the waste, but these
were too surprising to me to cast off. Smooth like polished stones, rich brown,
much like the color of deeply-roasted coffee beans, oddly shaped, weighty, and,
when tossed together, unusually acoustic.
I rinsed every one and saved them aside to dry on a towel. Since
then, I have been irresistibly grasping handfuls and letting them fall together
in a clamorous explosion of sound. I’m not sure what I will do with them. Maybe
they are just here for my tactile (and musical) enjoyment.
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