Seedless Watermelon

I was ignorant of it until now, but it seems there is a rather grand variety of fruit in this world called "seedless watermelon." Since it is a mutant species created by tampering with genes, the flavor is said to be lacking and there are questions about its safety, but... I do not like such monstrosities that have been castrated of the self-respect of a plant known as a seed.

Of course, seedless grapes and persimmons are common now, and although they are not directly related to seeds, we live in an age where many fruits have been tamed by technology and are being reproduced solely as commodities.
Naturally, if they are safe and delicious, I have no grounds to complain, but if I set aside my selfish tongue for a moment, a certain poetic sentiment suddenly pushes its way to the front.

In the old days, persimmons used to bear fruit here and there around people's homes, but most were so astringent they were inedible, and I understood them to be sweet shops exclusively for crows. Yet, that intense astringency felt as if it were jolting a dormant gene awake, and I felt as though I had been shown a glimpse of "wildness."

On the other hand—this was also when I was in elementary school—there was a pomegranate tree at a nearby shrine, and when I picked one and ate it, it was so sour it made me want to dance. I still remember tasting a flavor that, while containing a wild quality, was a taste from a world apart from artificial flavors.

Besides that, the Akebia, which like the pomegranate is full of the self-respect of seeds, had an extraordinary appearance, and its brazen attitude of "I'll let you eat me!" made it a friend of nature that could make one realize the insignificance of humans.

Unfortunately, you rarely see pomegranates or Akebia in supermarkets, and... I cannot help but worry that perhaps they have been kidnapped to some laboratory and, after being subjected to "fruit-body" experiments rather than human ones, have had their wildness castrated.

Yes. If we speak of fruits that have won the honor of being perfect slaves to humans as commodities, there are apples, pears, strawberries, grapes... Among them, only the watermelon (which is actually classified as a vegetable, not a fruit) should have maintained its wild self-respect, with its outward obedience (sweetness) and inward defiance (seeds).

Unlike the fruits lined up in supermarkets as commodities that fawn over you with sycophantic smiles and servile gestures, saying "Please, eat us," the watermelon's somewhat magnanimous and defiant attitude—"Want to try eating the seeds too? I'll make them sprout in your belly, ha ha"—was truly something to be respected.

Of course, eating watermelon seeds is medically harmless, but my grandmother, following the "laws of the wild," would say things like "They'll sprout from your belly..." or "You'll get appendicitis..."—in short, she taught me the proper way to interact with the wild.

The other day, near the water basin of a shrine I happened to stop by, a watermelon was sitting proudly in a washbasin under a pump-style well.
As an irreligious person, I do not bow my head to the shrine in the precincts, but I had no objection to giving a nod of respect to that watermelon hermit before leaving the spot.