Dear Ice Cream,
A little note to a sweet friend.
Have I ever told you how grateful I am for you? I know this sounds silly because you are a non-living thing, an eatable, a fantastic result of human desire for delectable desserts, and you sadly have no feelings. But it is what it is. I am grateful. For all the times you’ve been there, and for all the times you’ve cheered me up with your endless flavours. I mean, we spend an enormous amount of time talking about ourselves and the people around us.
So why not a few words in your honour?
People hurt, you know? They hurt, they disappoint, they betray, they leave, but they also elate us, encourage us, make us happy and practically make us feel everything in between and outside of these emotions. Do you see the range of variation a person goes through? You can’t even be sure if different people do this. A single individual is perfectly capable of inflicting a plethora of mind states. I know, I know, that is how life is supposed to be. A dish of uncertain, unexpected, and unanticipated ingredients.
But how does one cope with it?
Sure, the uncertainties are thrilling and life-affirming, but I feel we do need a few constants. To make us feel grounded, supported, and unconditionally loved. Even here, humans have dominance. But what happens when your constants are not around? What do you do then? I mean, you can’t expect another human to hover over your problems and solitude all the time unconditionally, right? This is precisely when you come into the picture for me.
You are like that ecstatic friend who is up for everything in life. For a walk down the beach, for a dine-in in a quaintly lit restaurant, for binge-watching tales of vampires, witches, and werewolves, and even for conversations with fellow humans. Your accommodating capabilities can give serious insecurity issues to any human. You are there when I need something sweet and chilly to go down my throat, but you are also there where I need something less intense. You melt deliciously, like a heart would, once encountered with comforting sermons and provide the joys of sugars.
You decorate yourself in various shapes, sizes and flavours. Sometimes you’re sprinkled with colourful pixie dust, and some other times you represent the value of pure simplicity. Vanilla is that non-complaining companion who snuggles up to every different flavour, and chocolate is forever the attention-seeking brat with its high prices and fancy names. And how can I forget about kulfi and tender coconut? They instantly remind anyone of home amidst the chaotic city life embedded with pompous chocolates and strawberries.
Despite their differences, they’re all capable of complementing each other with innovative themes — chocolate teaming up with almonds and pistachios and a fruity kulfi basking in collaborative glory. You see, all of your flavours cosily get along with each other irrespective of the widespread origins. Perhaps we humans could learn a thing or two from you.
And lastly, your unwavering support during distress, duress, and the newbie social distancing. There are countless times that you’ve sat through ordeals, patiently listening, softening, and flowing, sometimes mirroring the gushing sentiments. You calm the heated, angered emotions down and direct towards a space to contemplate and ponder. You are humble as you don’t mind being savoured at the end of the feast because you know where you stand and that you need not be like someone else to be appreciated.
You, see? This is why I wanted to talk about you. To acknowledge and admire your aesthetically delicious presence.
Dear ice cream, Have I ever told you how grateful I am for you?
