THAT BOX OF CHOCOLATES

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I had been allured into a shop by the mouthwatering confectionery on display.Had not intended to consume so many chocolates but did eat quite a few, enough to give me a stomachache the following morning.Even now I remember the taste of the candy bar shaped like a walking stick, the jellylike marshmallow, the warm squishiness of a round chocolate that tasted like a combination of an eclair and a hard brown candy of yesteryears, and the fruit and nut chocolate made with jaggery. I had brought back home about a dozen chocolate bars manufactured from around the world and another few bars of 5-Star chocolates.As I came out of the shop I came across 2 women carrying a few shopping bags and from amongst one such bag peeped out a Ferraro Rocher like chocolate in a transparent box.And just then I was summoned out to the parking lot.Though the craving for chocolates was being curbed by me by eating one chocolate a day, that chocolate box never left my mind.
There is something addictive about chocolates, i think especially with women.I am not very fond of chocolate syrups or chocolate toppings, but I love the rich creamy taste of chocolates and the crispiness of nuts within chocolates.And I already had a ready stock of chocolates for about a month, but the thought of not having tasted that chocolate in the box took hold of me and I spent nearly a fortnight dreaming about the kind of chocolate it would have been.Shortly afterwards another visit in the vicinity of the confectioner brought to my notice the same two women who had been carrying the chocolate of my dreams.After seeking them out in a nearby restaurant I came to know that the chocolate had been imported and had come from Dubai.Worse still those bags contained gifts and had been gifted away,so the ladies themselves had no idea what kind of chocolate it had been or what was it called.I returned from the restaurant and did not go into the confectioner's shop. En route to my house as I went into a sweetmeat shop to buy sweets for my house I particularly scoured through the chocolate section for imported  round chocolates.Since the shop made its own chocolates I did not find that box or chocolate either.At home the thought of that box of chocolates never left me and I had to pacify myself with a bar of another chocolate.At dinner time when my mother served dessert it seemed my obsession had crossed all limits when the rasgulla looked like a round ball of chocolate. But then, I had not bought any rasgullas that day.Showing me the paper bag containing the sweet packets my mother wanted to know why I had bought another set of chocolates when already I had a stock for about a month.And sure enough from the bag I saw protruding out that same imported box of chocolates! 

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