C for Chocolate

C for Chocolate

My name is Nazreen and I am a chocoholic.

There. I said it.

It all started when I was still an embryo in my mother's womb. One day my mom tried to ward off a bout of morning sickness with a bit of chocolate. Little did she know that this tiny piece of heaven was going to be the cause of a genetic mutation so severe that in the future her daughter would susceptible to life threatening diseases if deprived from chocolate for long.  And thus, was I introduced to a lifetime of medicinal chocolate.

Not buying it? Well, this is the story that seems most plausible as in the face of my irrational love for chocolate. People who have seen me with Chocolate will back me when I say I need it in my life. From the time I can remember it has made me weak in the knees like no man has ever. I won't be far off if I say in my world all the love sonnets and songs are dedicated to my beloved chocolate. If I could write odes, I would. Chocolate, dear reader, is my best friend, lover, muse, inspiration and at times my worst enemy. Of course, I don't take it personally, because I knew what I was getting into when I first got into this relationship. Even though my heart sang when we were together, my body didn't like it in particular. Especially since I completely neglected my body once Choci came into my life.

courtesy: Alicia D'souza

It really wasn't deliberate. When it started it was something innocent. I mean, I never thought it would get this serious. I should have heeded the warning signs but by the time I realized, I was head over heels in love. And you know how it is when one is in love, everything else just blurs and you and your beloved are all that matters; all unicorns and rainbows, I guarantee. With my love, my waistline also expanded. Exponentially. But for centuries people have died for love, so what's a few extra pounds in comparison?

I was so smitten that I stood by choci not matter what form he took. I was loyal through the milk chocolate, dark chocolate, Hazelnut phases. I did falter once when choci turned up at my door with those twins of questionable repute- fruit and nut. But I didn't turn Choci away because that's what love is, embracing your partner- flaws, nuts, raisins and all. After that incident Choci was so grateful that he didn't tell me about his 'experiments' with mint, coconut and orange, because he knew that would break my heart. That's our love, strong and intolerant to weird people trying to make my choci someone who he isn't. Come on, you all, who in their right mind would ever think that my beloved choci can gel with that annoyingly upbeat mint? That's as blasphemous as it can get. I think I'll leave it at that because my blood pressure rises every time I think about what they tried to do to my poor choci.

The thing is, I knew Choci like no one else does. People like to think he is great when accompanied with these silly nuts, but he is best natural. Just pure Choci. He's loyal. And he is by my side as I brave through depression, fall outs with friends, fights with my body....and he NEVER avoids me when I am PMSing. That's love right there.

However, evil that the world is, people have begun to call our love an 'obsession'. Then last time I was looking at choci adoringly in the supermarket someone told me it is 'Unnatural'.  It's a wonder that I didn't faint right then. This isn't natural? Choci and I, we....We are meant to be..Right?

But the doubts had now begun to wriggle their way through our love and to make things worse the weighing scale landed a heavy blow. As I stepped on the scale, my world fell apart. I began to see where this would lead. I could see myself, a few years down the line, stuck in a relationship where the only thing I gained was weight. Don't mistake me, we are crazy about each other, but our love can only destroy me. Completely.

That's when I decided, it's time to end it. And just like that, I let Choci out of my life.

For a few days.

I am ashamed to say that I cheated, more than few times, by letting Choci in again. But what was I to do when he looked at me with that dark, brooding face of his? How could I not give him one more chance?

But it was a cycle. And I found myself again on the scale- which was now about to give in to the weight- wondering how could I mess things up so badly, TWICE.

So here I am, dear reader, spilling my heart to you, hoping that you will help me out. Let me out of this misery, tell me if this love is worth it. You will be honest, won't you?