Contrasts in coconut

Bombay is a city of many contrasts. The rich and the poor, kind and indifferent, and....well, I could go on forever with the cliches. But one example of this that remained on my mind was -- coconut! I know, it's a strange object to be even talking about, but it's one of those things that just stick to your mind.
I love drinking coconut water -- or, to be more specific, fresh tender coconut water. It's available at any roadseller in India (at least in Bombay), a pile of green tender coconut on display. If you ask for one, the seller whittles away at the top of the coconut till he gets to the tender flesh inside, and then breaks through to get to the water, which can range from bland to sweet. But no matter what, it's always refreshing. I love tender coconut.
When I was at Vashi, which is the suburb of Bombay where my family lives, I found such a coconut seller in the little vegetable market at the edge of town. The vegetable market lies under the highway, and is small, close and secluded. I love going there. It's bright and colorful, with lovely contrasts displayed to the passers-by. I don't really like vegetables, but I can't resist being tempted by how good they look. And if you wander to the fruit section, it even smells heavenly. I really love it.
It was in this vegetable market that I found a coconut seller. He had a small mound of green tender coconut on display. I went to him and asked for one.
"Do you want it with or without malai (the flesh)?" he asked.
"Without -- I just want the water," I told him.
He went to work. He took out a little knife, and whittled away at the body of the coconut till he revealed the white husk inside. He poked at it with his knife, and a couple of drops of water on the inside spilled out. He put a straw into the hole and offered the fruit to me. "Here you go," he said.
I sipped it. It was delicious, sweet, cool and refreshing. No matter how hot it is outside, coconut water is always cool. I sipped at it, and was almost amazed to find how quickly I'd finished it off. It felt like I'd just drunk energy water, only better and more pure. I can't even describe how wonderful fresh coconut water tastes like. It was just amazing. I paid the seller -- it was a mere 15 rupees -- and left.
Next, my Mum and sister and I went to the nearby mall. The mall represents all that I've come to resent about the 'new' Vashi -- bright, loud, modern. I'm not saying I'm against development, and I of course admit that the malls have improved the lives of Vashi residents hugely. But I'm an old-fashioned person, and I rather preferred the quiet, sleepy little suburb where I grew up. But I digress.
We went to the mall, and on the third floor (2nd floor by Indian/British standards), is an outlet of an ice cream chain called Naturals. It's a local Bombay chain, and they sell ice cream in rather exotic flavors. I of course ordered my favorite -- tender coconut.
The ice cream was served in a tiny cup, a tiny scoop, about half the size of a cricket ball. I tasted it. It was good, quite good, and is, in fact, my favorite flavor at Naturals. As I sat under the bright lights of the food court of the mall and ate the ice cream, I couldn't help but compare it with the fresh coconut water I'd just had standing in the sun and the dirt. And you know what? I infinitely preferred the water. There was just something good about standing in the heat, sipping that cool water, served by that simple man under the trees.
And the ice cream cost 30 rupees.
Bombay is a city of many contrasts. And the contrast in the coconut proved to me that I like the old-fashioned way far, far more.