The Duet of Love

 

Mingling together

Tukai deserved an evening out. I gave him options— “Music World? Oxford?” “No way”, his answer was emphatic— it has to be a special dinner. He loves to eat. We call him a gourmet and an evening out with him must nothing less than be a grand dinner. I knew this but teased him a bit.

“Where to go?” Quick came the reply, “Park Street.” In our city most of the good old restaurants are bunched up along this half a kilometer long strip. “So be it”, I concurred.

We started walking from where Park Street begins. I told him, “We will walk slowly and look around. Whichever place takes our fancy we will step in.” It was a cool Saturday evening. At this time of the year before summer sets in, sea breeze makes the evenings very pleasant. Happily we strolled. Me talking non-stop as I do with him and he responding occasionally at right places with right sounds.

We were on the left sidewalk and I knew that a few of the most desirable destinations are situated on the opposite side of the road. Offering him smaller options near-at-hand and being instantly rejected, we went ahead. The evening was young and we were in no hurry.

After crossing the junction of Camac Street I had to stop. “Tukai, now we have to cross the road and backtrack” I said, “No more possible choices ahead. All the good ones are behind us.” Just as we crossed the road, turned around and walked a few steps towards the direction we came, Tukai exclaimed with firm conviction, “I know where to go. Guess.” Faintly I remembered a famous Chinese restaurant lies somewhere in this vicinity. “But it is very costly Tukai”, I tried to discourage him mildly. With a reassuring smile he said, “No no, only a little costlier than Peter Cat”. We both knew Peter Cat well. Only a few steps, and lo, there it was—the Chinese one. Now my memories came back clear. Tukai stepped in, with me tagging along.

It was early evening. No rush yet. We took our seats comfortably. Menu book—it was much more than a card—was placed before us. Tukai went through all the menu items with great care and thoroughness and placed his order. It is our custom—he places the order, not me. The starter was simply stunning. Though I am not a formal food lover, it was one of the best tastes even I had ever experienced. The lovely dinner ended with Chocolate Mousse which both of us enjoyed thoroughly. The amount of food was less but the eating experience was special and very satisfying.

While coming out contented, I explored him, “I want to have an ice-cream.” As I expected, he practically jumped up, “Me too.” “What about the Chocolate Mousse you just had?” I teased him. “Oh it is nothing, I will have another.”

We chose a nearly empty but a nice parlour where you can have your seat and enjoy your ice-cream. I never paid earlier any special attention to the myriads of varieties of ice-cream or for that matter to the ice-cream preparations.

Tukai chose his item instantly—a Black Forest. Feeling a little helpless, I asked the man behind the counter, “Tell me, what should I have?” It goes to his credit that without asking too many questions, he pointed to a big picture on the wall. “Take that, I assure you it would be very special.” It was an ice-cream preparation. I was not very sure, “What does it contain?”, I asked. He explained. I said, “Ok, that’s it then”.

Tukai’s Black Forest came in a big glass adorned with good-looking tidbits. It was a mixture of many items—it was an ice-cream preparation. My item came next. Seeing the container itself I felt happy. It was a dark bone china boat with a big multicoloured blob floating on a dark brown thick semi-liquid substance.

I sliced my spoon vertically from top to bottom and put the first scoop in my mouth. Immediately I realized why the name. Relishing the next two mouthfuls, I offered Tukai, who took two more. “Now do you understand why the name?” I asked him. “Hot and cold, white and brown, smooth semi-liquid and crunchy solid.” He is a perceptive one and never misses his mark much.

It was mainly a chunk of hot brownie nearly floating on hot liquid chocolate with a large scoop of pure white vanilla ice-cream topping which melted and flowed down. I have gone through a life’s experiences that men usually go through. To me the hot and cold mixture melting and crunching in my mouth evoked special memories unconnected with food. Tukai is only sixteen. His perception surely was different and can only be an extension of reasoning. But I admired the man who designed this particular concoction and so aptly named it. He must have been an artist with a thorough understanding of connections between various human sensual pleasures.

While I paid, the man at the counter asked, “How was your Duet of Love?”