Forever Forlorn

31 Flavors

Choice is a strange thing. Give someone too much choice and the person gets confused. If we have no choice we are unhappy. No one likes it, and most certainly not my friend Rupa, who happened to be the sole vegetarian among five non-vegetarian friends. The restaurant did not make it easy. They had just one option for the vegetarians – a cheese sandwich. The non vegetarians had several options to choose from. You would think it made her happy to get what she always chooses anyway. I noticed her sulk.

“I don’t like being forced to do anything – even doing things that I love to.”“Let me give you a choice.” I offered to be helpful, “Would you eat a cheese sandwich or go hungry?”Her eyes lit up. She chose to order, what I know she always does. She chose the cheese sandwich.“I don’t feel good. There was no real decision to be made. All I had was two options to choose from. When I go shopping, I like to see millions of options before I settle in on something. Then no matter what I choose, I go back feeling like I have made a real decision.”I suddenly felt sorry for her husband who was forced to accompany her when she went shopping. I pictured her husband accompanying her like a reluctant puppy being taken for a walk. Ever seen one?After the snack, all of us decided to go for ice creams.We walked into a store that advertised thirty one flavors. That makes it one for every day of the month. November has only thirty days was my first reaction. Rupa was already surveying all the options. She did not look very happy.“I wish I could smell each one of them. Just seeing the ice cream makes it hard to decide. These names don’t help either. An ice cream that is called Forever Forlorn sounds interesting, but I am not sure I will like the taste. I like the purple colour though. It will match my nail polish.”“Imagine if you could hear each flavor. That would give you even more information.” I offered helpfully and immediately shut up when she shot me that murderous look normally reserved for her usually silent husband.The sales assistant offered to do what her job title said. She pulled out a small pink colored spoon and doled out an incredibly miniscule sampling of the Forever Forlorn. Rupa tasted it. Thought about it for a few seconds and said, “Hmmm…”The shop assistant was clever enough to know that meant she wanted more options. “This one is called Generous Gorgeous.” The ice cream was green and I didn’t think it matched anything that anyone of was wearing. For a change Rupa agreed. The sampling process continued. Having tasted thirty of them, the girl at the sales counter knew that the only way she could sell something to my friend was to get her to sample the last variety. She was right.Rupa’s eye lit up. “Give me two scoops of this.”“This is called Plain Vanilla. You went through all the flavors for nothing. This is ridiculous. You sampled all the fancy flavors and finally chose a no-brainer.”“By the time I had tried the fifth ice cream, my taste buds were numb. It did not matter what I chose. But the shop assistant was mechanically forcing me to keep sampling all the flavours. So much of choice is frustrating. What flavor did you choose? That looks interesting…”“This one is called Forever Unhappy.”———Don’t miss my articles on the Times of India Blog

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  1. Ruchi says:

    Haha. Roopa , Ice creams, Tasting Samples & Choices in Life. Not choosing is also a choice

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