Birds and Blooms: Grin and 'bair' it

Since January, my no-fuss, low-maintenance bair shrub (a perfect plant for a ground-zero gardener like myself) has been yielding heaps of bair or jujube, a popular local fruit in Pakistan. 

I planted a sapling three years ago in my small strip of a veggie patch. It is a sunny/shady spot, and with a regular, average amount of watering the soil stays moist. We keep the evergreen, thorny shrub pruned to about 2 meters high as it tends to grow vigorously. The branches spread out wildly and droop low. The hardy shrub stays unfazed by Karachi's hot, humid aridity, irregular soil fertilising, extreme heat, careless over watering and enforced dry bouts. In December, the appearance of tiny yellow flowers that look like fuzz heralds the onset of fruit. From January to March the branches are adorned with fruit that hangs like Christmas lights. Three times a week we pick about a kg of bair, at a pace faster than we can eat them or share them with the help, family, friends and neighbours. I can easily give the bair puchcarts a run for their money. One season's harvest is approximately 20 kgs. It would be a great idea to grow these shrubs in public places for free food. 

Last year when we pruned the shrub in the summer months after fruiting season, to promote healthier regrowth, I earnestly willed for it to grow back the very next day, like a magic beanstalk. The lush shrub had been reflecting/absorbing the heat of the overhead midday sun that beats down relentlessly through my room window. Once it was pruned, the sun baked my room to furnace degrees. When the fresh, shiny green leaves grew back again they resumed their job of shielding my room. Now the filtered sunlight and air that blows into my room is cooler and sweeter than any artificial air conditioning. 

We pick the fruit when it looks like it has grown to its fullest size, like a balloon blown to the max, or a baby's puffed, rosy cheeks. I prefer to eat them when they are still green, when the skin is crispy and the flesh is white, sweet and juicy, like mini apples. When they ripen to a yellow ochre and then a bronzed orange they become wrinkly. The flesh turns pale, spongy, soft and mealy and has a strong musky smell.  They ripen quickly, especially if left in a bag, so I keep them in an open fruit bowl and race to finish them before they start ripening. 

I looked up its benefits online and apparently I have a potent potion growing in my veggie patch: the various parts of the jujube tree and fruit are rich in nutrition, antioxidants, minerals such as manganese, iron, phosphorus and calcium and Vitamin C, A and B2; improve strength, stamina, general health and wellbeing and immunity; can heal cuts, wounds, sores, gingivitis, gout, rheumatism, backache, ulcers, liver troubles, diarrhea, dysentery, indigestion, biliousness, nausea, vomiting, abdominal pains in pregnancy, pulmonary ailments, sore throats, asthma, fevers, insomnia, anxiety, hair fall and acne; and are used as eye lotions, laxatives, relaxants, sedatives, poultices and even as biodiesel. 

I do wish some people could also be no-talk, just-walk like the no-nakhra bair shrub.