Madan Ice Cream Parlour

The street used to be much quieter then

Fewer vehicles, fewer people, fewer shops

I used to read its name as 'Madam'

And think it belonged to 'Madam'

Our school principal

Who incidentally lived on the same street

Hands held, we would be walking

As it would get near

A bubble of excitement would rise up my chest

And burst through a chirp out of my mouth

Looking at her askance

Eyes lit up, I would ask her,

"Which rank do you want, Amma?"

Madan Ice Cream Parlour was neither grand

Nor nondescript

Neither big nor small

But it was a happy place

It held dreams, tiny dreams of little children

It had so many flavours,

Of which chocolate was my favourite

I would negotiate with Amma

Starting from tenth 

I would go up to first three

I never stood among the first three in class

But I always got my ice cream

Warm-eyed, hiding a chuckle,

Amma would always indulge me

The only time I did not want ice cream

Was after my tonsils operation

The soft vanilla flavoured cream in a paper cup

Was a horror to swallow

I had to be forced as my throat screamed in agony

Days later, I would pass the shop again

With Acchan this time

I told him that the doctors had advised me ice cream

It was a full-bodied fib

My throat had completely healed

And yet I felt such glee

As I licked the ice cream

Amma was never fooled

But Acchan sincerely fell for it.

It feels fuzzily funny looking back

That I would desire something like this

Tiny, sweet, creamy dreams of a child,

Costing between 10 and 15 rupees

Spinning little machinations to fulfil them

Which was the flavour I had that day,

With Acchan?

Was it chocolate in a crunchy cone

Or was it a chocobar?

I should feel guilt,

At least a little bit

But I am filled with a glow

A warm, happy, fuzzy glow

As I remember.

Thank you Amma and Accha. 

- Chandni Girija

April 01, 2021

Day 01 of 30 | National Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo #napowrimottt2021

*Amma - Mother in Malayalam

*Acchan - Father in Malayalam