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The moment I feel like eating chocolate, I debate for hours whether I should eat chocolate. What about the calories I will pile on? Should I save this cheat for another day, perhaps on Natural’s Ice Cream or chocolate mud cake or may be that artichoke-mozzarella pizza I so adore? But then I realize the temptation’s too high to resist.

And I open the box and take the piece of chocolate in my hand. Now I look at the tiny piece and the left side of my brain, or whichever side that usually works logically thinks again. So many calories, should I commit the sin? I take forever to decide but then I realize I am fighting a losing battle. So I open up the wrapper ever so carefully and put the now-slightly melted chocolate into my mouth. I let the bitter-sweet flavour of the heavenly cocoa wrap my tongue and overwhelm my senses. I am lost to this world. But a few seconds later I am back to the earth with a mighty thud. The guilt hits me big time too. Look at your jiggling paunch and the ever-growing tushy? Now where will these extra calories sit on? That day in the gym, I work out extra. The flavour of chocolate long forgotten, what remains is self-reproach.

Anyway, being a Sunday evening, it’s my two-year old’s treat day. I give her a piece of chocolate, the same as mine. But she’s not impressed. She wants the entire bar. Deciding to not give her any chocolate the following Sunday, I give her an entire small bar of Cadbury Silk. She takes her chocolate and sits silently in one corner of the room. She puts the bar in her mouth; licks it and eats it. A few minutes later, the chocolate, the entire bar, has disappeared. The only visible signs of it remain plastered over her mouth and fingers. She is happily licking the brown gooey paste off her fingers. She smiles at me displaying her perfectly tiny white pearls now covered with chocolate. Her happiness is priceless. Oh no! It is short lived. She wants more.