“You don’t have a drop of blood in your body, only chocolate streaming through your veins.” Beautiful lines, or they would be, if my mom wasn’t screeching at me! I was mad about chocolate ever since I was little. The second word I learnt to say, after ‘Mine!’ was ‘Chocolate.’
My parents hoped that this craze would die out, but they were sadly mistaken. If you had a piece of chocolate, I was your slave. Once, in the gurudwara, I struck up a conversation with a man who gave me a handful of Hersheys Kisses. For nearly an hour my parents could not locate me. And when they found me, I was happily chatting with ‘Chocolate Uncle’ (who thankfully turned out to be Dad’s friends) with my face smeared with, well you guessed it, chocolate.
In school, I was dubbed as the ‘Chocolate Girl’. I would never run out of toffees and candies. The secret of my unending source of chocolates was Mt. Abu. I was the first grandchild from my Mom’s side and everybody adored me. I could walk in to Uncle’s store and pick up a fistful of chocolates and he wouldn’t reprimand me. My mother’s admonitions and Dad’s patience in explaining why I shouldn’t behave the way I did, would run out, but my chocolates wouldn’t. You see, I had a second secret source. My Grandpa’s brother in law (who I called Dada) was fond of kids, and he had a special room in his house filled with all sorts of chocolates imaginable. I kid you not, he did.
So, if my uncle, on feeling guilty, after having heard yet another lecture from my mom, would withdraw his supply (temporarily), I would simply walk into Dada’s house. At the end of vacations, my mom would heave a sigh of relief, because she finally would have control over me. Or so she thought.
You see, I had a nice little arrangement in my school. I would share my chocolates with my classmates on the condition that when they celebrate their birthday, I would get three times the chocolate back. And since there were at least two birthdays celebrated in a month, I was never short of supply.
But alas! Like every love story, mine too had a villian. Thanks to Riya (Oh how I hate her) and her wagging tongue, I was caught one fine winter day! My parents were not too thrilled at my enterprising nature and made me turn out my pockets every day before I got into the bus, hence forward.
The dentist hated me, but what he loathed more were my perfect pearly white teeth, untouched by any signs of decay even though I probably ate the most number of chocolates amongst all his patients. In fact, even today, I don’t visit the dentist at all, except for an annual check up, where he has to put the ticks in all the right boxes, much to my glee.
My love affair with chocolate did not end in college. One would think that my raging teenage hormones would definitely find someone else to have a crush on, but they didn’t. At least not on a human being. But they fell in love with chocolate sandwiches!
And then tragedy struck; I was banned from eating chocolates! “I am not fat, my clothes have magically shrunk”, was not an acceptable excuse for my practical mother and she put me on a rigorous no chocolate diet.
But she failed to realize that she chocolate would always be my first and last love. I pined for it, like any normal teenager and I wrote love ballads, designed websites and even bought products that smelled and looked like chocolates.There was a time when I had 5 T shirts in brown colour. I even made the painter paint my bookshelf chocolate brown from a boring brown. But they did not satisfy my longing for chocolate.
Finally, I gave in and started going on long walks. Within a few months, my clothes started growing a little and they started fitting me. My mother would beam with pride when she saw me sweat covered, red in face and panting for breath every morning at 6(parents are strange creatures). However, after staying away for chocolate for nearly 6 months, I realized that my love was actually an infatuation. My inexperienced taste buds had declared chocolate a winner before they experienced other delectable delicacies. And I realized the folly of my ways. I broke up with chocolate soon after. It is not like I did not have a relapse once in a while, but I ensured that it was only temporary.
Chocolates and I have decided to remain friends for life and we definitely enjoy each other’s company infrequently. But a little secret! I have found new love! It’s Ras Malai (Don’t tell mom ok?)