My Bars of Chocolate

Zulfi Ahmed

Karachi girls

Girls are like bars of chocolate. They are sweet and too much consumption of either can cause heart trouble. Then there is bitter chocolate, which like girls can leave a bitter taste in your mouth. And still ramp up a heart attack if not consumed with caution. Both of course melt when hot and hard to chew when cold. They come in a variety of shapes and sizes, the mini-bar or the extra large. They come in pretty, eye-catching wrappers to attract the wandering eye and heart, in mouth-watering flavors. And they are both more fun unwrapped. Some are just plain, some filled with soft coconut inside, some just nutty. And all can definitely lead to heart trouble. And they do not come cheap. You want more tastes, have your wallet ready. Every taste and every bite will cost, trust me. And unwise consumption can still cause heart trouble. My first encounter with chocolate was probably at 4 and with girls at 14. I had a decade of experience with chocolate by then, and it was nearly not enough to handle the real thing. It all began in class 9 in high school. St. Jude's school was tucked at the end of D'Slva Town in the shadows of Abdullah Girls College in Karachi. It was a co-ed institution offering all the fun a boy could have. Tehmina and Kahkashan were my classmates. And they also happened to be practically my neighbors in Block L, North Nazimabad. This gave me the extreme advantage of escorting them home whenever the school bus broke down or the driver did not show up or during any other heavenly emergency. A Rickshaw ride in puberty class, sandwiched between 'namkeen' looking Kahkashan and 'rus bhari' Tehmina made me the envy of my every ogling testosterone laden male classmate. They were both sweet, innocent, shy, generous, soft, unselfish, and untested virgins. And they and I had only one thing in common, and I used to dream about losing that one commonality every night and numerous daydreams. It is at this point I realized my only passion in life, unlike my car fanatic friend and Chowk contributor, Shahzad Kazi, who I met many years later at NED University, had two legs and a 'choti' and not four wheels and a muffler. Although soon it became a reality that to enjoy the first, you had to have some ownership of the second. Those were the glory years of 1974-1975 as we prepared for our matriculation exams. Being nerdy and nurturing an uncanny command on geometry, English, and solving algebraic factors gave me a license to tutor these two unfettered blossoming beauties. Late night study sessions at fifteen in the sweet comfort of two unsuspecting, unassuming, dove-eyed girls is any boy's dream. There was chocolate everywhere. To make sure I could impress them, I really developed super-skills at math, as my wiry looks, curly hair, and square rimmed glasses were not enough to make any female do back flips. There were also many stupid tricks and treats that donned my repertoire of girl pleasing, most acquired through trial and error, natural instincts, and with a relentless ability to make them laugh with my everyday stupidity. And it was during these two formative years, I grabbed on to a well-kept secret that most guys still do not understand well enough. The ladder to a girl's heart goes not through expensive German autos, or thick dollar filled wallets, or a collection of Tommy and Polo outfits, or Rithik Roshan looks, or dad's deeply impressive mutual fund investments, although these may help position the ladder somewhat. Climbing into a girl's heart and getting a taste of that ravishing chocolate, requires knowing how to make them laugh, how to make them smile, leaving the ego at home and getting ready for complete, humble submission; doing the stupid pet tricks with reckless abandon; being a pet, letting her be the ring master. 'Hansi to phansi, muskurai to jaib main?' doctrine works. Tehmina and Kahakahsan were a fun experience, stepping-stones. It was not until I went into NED that the real fun began. White became my color. St. Joseph's virgin white uniform. Grey wrapped my days and nights, the Grey in the uniform of PECHS Girls College. White chocolate, dark chocolate, bitter chocolate, sweet chocolate, coconut flakes wrapped in chocolate, nuts mixed in chocolate. Life was dipping, nourishing, and flourishing in chocolate. And heart troubles were plenty. Bitter heartaches acquired from the gates of PECHS Girls College were remedied by sweet girl panaceas obtained at the Karachi University. Karachi University girl troubles were alleviated by juicy medication obtained by St. Joseph's girls. It was all very intoxicating. Lip alcohol does not come in a bottle, is more delicious, and many times more devastating in the long haul. There was always a need for more. An addiction to please, coddle, cajole; to be chivalrous, to extract a laughter from a damsel, to be wanted. Girls loved to talk, to be heard. And I was there to listen to their problems, about their nagging over jealous brother, or a strict disciplinarian father, or their rebellion to a super-orthodox family. Some just wanted to have fun, some wanted to break the mould, some did it because of peer pressure, some just because their friends were doing it, some to spite their mothers, some to emulate a more western lifestyle and exercise their freedom to date. And some were truly in love. In any case, there were plenty of girls, plenty or reasons, and plenty of sweet tasting chocolate. And plenty of heart aches. The pick up was probably more thrilling than the date itself. From the duller pick up at the St. Josephs' college gate or the Karachi University department lobby to the more unorthodox pool meetings at Karachi Gymkhana. Carving initials on trees surrounding the pool was a fun activity. Pick ups at mehndis were particularly exciting as the girls were decked up in paranda laden braid, giggling glass bangles, choori dar, and make up loud enough to put Reema to shame. Pick up from a close friend's house was quite exciting, as the friend was trusted to provide cover for the few hours of amorous dalliances that consumed the mind and body. The most daring of pick-ups were while dating Sadaf, who had six brothers. She nervously used to hop into my 1975 sea green Toyota Celica as dusk was being engulfed by darkness, less than 20 feet from her house in KDA Scheme 1's main chowrangi. The chocolate then melted. There was the video game arcade at the Bahadurabad chowrangi where I used to pick up and hang out with my Home Economics College dates only to get a glimpse of the storeowner's cute sister. Gazing at her forest thick dark knee length hair and pretty dark brown eyes had the same effect on me as white powder would on a coke junkie. Sitting in the car by the curb at the adjacent milk shake shop with a date for hours while craving for her to show up had an unfaithful sort of guilty pleasure associated with it. She is the one, though, who slipped away. But there were other brands of chocolate to satiate the craving. My Celica had dark tinted glasses and uncomfortably small rear seats. Advantage of the former was nullified by the discomfort of the latter. The girls were not very keen on getting back there. Limos would have come real handy here, oh well. All they wanted the exhilarating fast rides and fun filled drive by the Clifton beach. I just wanted more chocolate. Tehmina and Kahkashan went to Sind medical and Dow medical college to become doctors and get married. We did not keep in touch. I wish them well as they taught me well. I may have educated them in math but they left me with a lesson a lot more valuable. How to always enjoy a life full of chocolate.