They were there at the regular ice-cream place. It doesn’t boast of great ice-creams, but it was close enough to work, to sneak in for some gossip. It was also used to meet up old colleagues, who were no longer allowed access beyond reception, to people’s seats where gossip seemed its most natural.
So one of those days, for one of those many reasons, they were at the regular ice-cream place.
The ice-cream lover that she w, she was really glad that of all these visits. She really thanked her stars and the innumerable Hindu Gods, that the ice-cream place was indeed a ice-cream place and not say, a muttai-bonda place or some such. Then she would be forced to join in just for the gossip..
So getting back to their current visit, they began this trip talking sweet nonsense and other gibberish. Each ordered something just to keep the conversation going. She being the foodie that she was, she grabbed a bottle of soda and drank a little. She almost spat out a bit, surprised by the taste of it. That called for some laughs and other talk about who had had soda and who had had lime soda and so on when suddenly something happened.
Memories came flooding back to her, drowning all the noise of the chatter. Memories of good old days, memories that she didn’t even remember having, memories of long lost childhood, of when there was goli-soda, of when there was thatha to go along with to neighborhood shop, of the neighborhood shop keeper who always had a credit history with thatha, of being 8 or 9 years old, of school and friends and innocence and studies and a lot other more. A wave of memories hit her and transported her to a time so long back, taking her to the land of her childhood. So lost was she in her memories, it didn’t surprise for a moment, how loaded a memory of a sip of goli-soda could be….
Silently, she gripped the bottle a little harder and took another gulp. She was liking the trip down memory lane. It was nice to be 8 or 9 years old again…..