I had a wonderful friend who was also a Doctor. One day, when I described some symptoms to him, he immediately diagnosed that I was a diabetic but since we were due to go on a Road Trip the next week, he deferred the announcement.

Only after we returned from a memorable trip did he call me and advise me to go in for a blood / sugar test. He also warned me that the report would be damning.

So I landed up early in the morning at some Diagnostic Centre in Basheerbagh. Gave my ‘Fasting’ sample and then wondered what to do for the next two hours before I could give my post prandial samples.

Taj Mahal and a couple of Idlis would have been the right choice. But there was a thought that was haunting my mind.

I was doomed to be on the wrong side of sweet. I knew that. I knew my doctor friend too well. I also realised that eating sweets would no longer be, possibly never ever be a guilt free experience.

So I called up a friend. Got him to come and meet up with me at Liberty X Roads. And then barged into the Yankee Doodle Parlour that used to be there.

The sweepers were just about cleaning the place up. The counter boys were dragging themselves in. And that’s when my friend and I walked in.

At first they were not ready to serve us. But a bit of cajoling and a bit of ‘dadagiri’ later, they were serving us with pleasure.

I looked at the whole thing like a condemned man’s last meal. And ordered the most exotic, richest, creamiest concoctions. The staff was aghast…but soon they caught on to the significance of what they were an unwilling part of. And experiments began to happen.

A little more cream, a few more nuts, a lot more sauce…the ice creams became richer and the quantity increased.

After almost a full two hours of binging I went back to the Diagnostic Centre and gave my sample.

But…I never went back for the report.