THIS ABOVE ALL
I love kulfis and icecreams
Khushwant Singh

Now that I have drastically cut down the amount I eat, I think of tasty food all the time. My pet obsession is to select one item on which I could live happily for the rest of my life. First I thought of rice. Since you have to have something to go with it, I crossed it out. I did the same with bread, as you have to eat something with it. The third item I thought of was daal. There are many varieties to choose from. I like all of them but I am not sure whether I could eat daals twice every day.

Next were potatoes and peas, both of which I relish. But if I lived on potatoes, I would surely get fat, and peas create much gas in the stomach. So, no potatoes or peas. I went for vegetables like carrots, tomatoes, beans, karela and spinach. But I would be bored very soon. So also with fruit — apples, pears, grapes, bananas, kiwi — all good for health, but not acceptable as the only thing to eat.

Ultimately, I looked back. The one item I never tire of was ice-cream. From the time I tasted the petiwalas’ product, wrapped in flannel in a small wooden box (hence petiwalla) and served on a dried pattal, it has become my favourite. Petiwalas disappeared, and were replaced by kulfiwalas. Their product was in pitchers packed with ice and the kulfi, contained in metal containers. Some were well known for excellence of their product. I went long distances to buy these.

Then we started making icecream at home in wooden buckets full of ice and milk with different flavours in a single metal churned by hand. It was delicious. Many years ago my father bought Narbudda Icecream Factory in Bhopal. I was working on my first novel and living alone in the manager’s house by the lake. I made it a point to visit the factory every afternoon and spent some time in the large room where a pond-sized container had fragrant substance being churned slowly.

It smelt heavenly, and I wanted to plunge in it. I gorged myself on it because I did hate to pay for it. My selection now is Mother Dairy’s kulfi. I eat one every day as a dessert after dinner. I could live on it for the rest of my life.

Once upon a time, a couple celebrated their 25th marriage anniversary. They had become famous for not having a single quarrel in such a long period. Local media men gathered on the occasion to find out the secret of their well-known happy going marriage.

Journalist: "It is amazingly unbelievable. How did you make this possible?" Husband, recalling his old honeymoon days, said: "We went to Shimla for honeymoon. Having selected horse-riding, we rode side by side. My horse was okay, but the horse on which my wife was riding seemed to be crazy. It jumped suddenly and tossed my wife over. She got up and patted the horse’s back, and said: ‘This is your first time.’

"She again climbed the horse and continued riding. After a while, it happened again. This time she again kept her cool and said: ‘This is your second time,’ and continued. When the horse dropped her third time, she took out a revolver from her purse, and shot the horse dead.

"I shouted at my wife. ‘What did you do, psycho? You killed the poor animal. Are you crazy?’ She gave a silent look, and said: ‘This is your first time.’ That’s it. We are happy ever after."

Sorrow is our constant companion. Happiness comes and goes. Santa agrees, and says: "My wife is always with me. Her sister comes and goes."