Chocolate...

Chocolate makes people happy. You’ve probably heard that a million times before. The survey that “proved” that chocolate did work as a mild anti-depressant has been oft-repeated and has been exhausted of much of its novelty value. That is not what I am talking about. I am talking about chocolate being able to spread happiness and love.

Here in India, for a rich child, buying a bar of chocolate is a thoughtless and carefree act, but for the poor kid, it’s manna. Chocolate is a rare treat. In all likelihood, he can’t even afford to spend the meager five rupees for this object of utmost desire. Chocolate, in this country, is a prerogative of the rich. The poor don’t have chocolate. It’s just not done.

Yet, they all crave for it. It’s common to crave for chocolate, especially for kids. I’m nearly 22, and I still crave for chocolate. And its human nature, you crave most for something you can’t attain. I have seen more of the city’s poor than the poor of the village, and honestly, to these kids the difference in status is even more apparent, in every possible way. It breaks my heart to see these children drool over the chocolate billboards they see plastered over the city walls. They know they can’t have it, but they can’t help wanting it!

The streets of Calcutta are filled with begging children. Yet, I don’t give them money because I know that most of this money doesn’t go to them anyway, and yet the sadness in their eyes tugs at yours heart strings. Instead, when I see a little child begging, I’d rather buy him a bar of chocolate. There is one outside my college who’s befriended me and says “Hi!” to me every time I walk past. His name, as I find out much later, is Raja.

On an impulse one day, I stop and buy him a bar of ‘Dairy Milk’. Unbelievingly he takes it from my hand. His eyes light up the moment he holds that bar of chocolate in his hands; it’s as though he’d struck gold! Gratitude overwhelms him, and he becomes shy, and runs off, but not before muttering a very excited “Thank you Didi!*” A little surprised by his immense joy, I watch him for a bit, while he very proudly shows off his newest acquisition to his friends, some of whom are wide-eyed while the naughtier ones try to grab at it, but obviously fail! After his initial euphoria wears off, and the other children start to get bored and walk away, he calls them back. He slowly unwraps the thin foil covering to reveal dark brown chocolate, while the rest watch, drooling, in mystified silence. “What a show-off!”, I think in my head. But right then, he does something I can’t imagine he will. He breaks the bar into five equal pieces and shares them with all his friends, who now treat him like nothing less than a demi-god. I’m really surprised. I would think that this little kid would want to keep the chocolate all to himself, after all this is a rare treat for him.

I have bought him a chocolate many times after that, and I really did think he would get greedy after a while, but he always divided it equally amongst all his friends. I even tried buying him a really small one on one particular occasion, but somehow they all managed to get a bite out of that too! I was amazed, and touched, every single time.

Before buying it for him on one of those many days, I ask him why he always shares his chocolate. He answers in such a matter-of-fact manner that I am a little ashamed. He simply says “Didi, they’re my family; we’re supposed to share everything, big or small. I couldn’t dream of something without sharing it with all of them. Why do you ask? Wouldn’t you do the same with your family or friends?” With this, he takes the chocolate from my hand, shouts a gay “thank-you!” (his shyness has disappeared over the weeks!) and skips down the sidewalk to find his “family”, without realizing the profundity of what he had just said.

The little kid made me think. Made me question whether I had become selfish. Did I bother sharing anymore, not just a bar of chocolate, but even my feelings? Or have I become too caught up with myself to even care about sharing my joys, my possessions, my achievements, my sorrows, my failures…my life? Did I care about those I loved most and did they even think of me when they had something to share or did they just keep it to themselves? Raja’s words kept ringing in my ear, and they changed me.

Chocolate helped me bring a little bit of happiness into Raja’s life, but it brought a lot of happiness into mine as well. He taught me something without even realizing that he had, and that’s the best part about the innocence of a child. Sure, I didn’t do a magnificent act of social welfare but I made him happy. Maybe I didn’t rescue him from his poverty, but I bought him a bar of chocolate which gave him a few hours of happiness. This, made me happy. Not only had I learned to share, Raja also taught me that sometimes our smallest thoughtless acts can bring sunshine into someone’s life and that sunshine automatically overflows into our own too.

*Note: In Hindi, ‘didi’ is used to refer to an elder sister.