Can I Have Somemore?

I can't recall the last time I felt like Charlie from Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Malnutritioned, scrawny, pale and feeble, yet with a heart shining so bright. Being a hardcore chocoholic, I'd gobble up every ounce and ooze of chocolate within my 10-mile radius. But alas, it is the holy month of Ramadan and Iftar is still but a good 8 hours away.

This wasn't your typical bar of chocolate, that's nestling in the secret compartment of my huge work bag. I knew that those countless zippers inside the bag would come in handy one day. Handy, not because I can segregate my knicks from my knacks, handy not because I can compartmentalize my Ipod from my mobile phone, handy not because I would not have to rummage my bag inside out to scour for my keys. Handy, simply for the selfish reason that I could hide my precious chocolate stash from the prying eyes of the world.

Did I mention that this wasn't your typical bar of chocolate? This isn't your caramel filled Mars or your scrumptous nutty Snickers delight. Even your prized Godiva or assorted mix from Sins could match the adulterous bar hidden in my vault of a bag. This bar, is a gift from a friend, all the way from New York. Now there are many homemade chocolate shops lining the busy streets of New York. The more famous ones could be found off Broadway or the quaint little neighbourhood of Chelsea. But the often better tasting ones are hidden in little nooks and cranny of a lane in the least expected of places.

This one here, just a mere 5 minute walk from the Brooklyn side of the industrious Brooklyn bridge, is simply out of this world. On its royal red wrapper, just the brand name Jacques Torres is printed on the top in prim gold letterings. You don't need a description to be stated clearly on the wrapper. You simply have to let your tongue massage the silky smooth surface of the chocolate, then let your senses take charge and drive you into a delirious chocolate orgasm.

Now all these thoughts about chocolate is leaving me oh so insane that I even considered faulting my fast for the day just so I can devour that chocolate bar. Snapping myself out of this mess, I decided to do something meaningful for the next few hours before sunset. I went about working on my proposal and tweaking my reports for my big presentation the next day. All this while, telling myself that I shall NOT share my chocolate with anyone but myself.

And so it was time to leave the office. It was 6.30pm and I knew that I would not be able to reach home in time for Iftar. I considered hanging around for a little while but then again, the thought of eating home cooked food was just much to strong and so I brisked hastily toward the train station.

The evening train was not as crowded as expected, and though I could not zero in on an empty seat, I settled for the spot near the sliding doors where I can lean against the glass pane and watch the city zoom past me in a mazy haze.

By this time, I was perpetually glancing at my watch every few seconds to see how far away am I to breaking my fast. A sweet looking Muslim girl standing opposite me must have noticed my antics for she smiled to herself and tried to look away. If only she knew whats hiding beneath that big brown bag of mine. I reciprocated her smile with one of my own as I tried to redeem myself by pulling down my shirt sleeve so that it covered my watch.

As the surrounding skies began to darken and the street lights began to take prominence on the roads below, I allowed myself to ponder on my big presentation the next day, almost forgetting that the time for Muslims in Singapore to break their fast is just a mere few seconds away. The sweet looking Muslim girl suddenly jolted and rummaged her bag only to retrieve her mobile phone whose alarm went off in berzerk, to signal the time to break our fast.

I smiled mischievously at her, trying to imply that I'm not the only one that is having a hard time containing my hunger and thirst. She must have felt embarrassed and forced herself not to look in my direction.

I didn't plan to break my fast with a bar of chocolate but considering the situation I'm in, I had no choice. I slowly reached into the bag, already memorizing which compartment I had placed my prized possession in. With my hands still in my bag, I skillfully tore out the red wrapping first, followed by the silver foiling.

I took careful measures not to rip that whole godamn thing off. I ensured that I tore enough just for me to pluck one 'cube' of the entire chunk of heaven. My god as I allowed the chocolate to melt in my mouth, its flavour just precipitates throughout my physical being and I swear I had a chocolate orgasm. I just closed my eyes and sucked on the 'cube' so that it melted and withered and seeped its gooey self down my throat.

As I opened my eyes, the sweet Muslim girl looked bewildered. She must be mathematically wondering what I had just placed into my mouth. I mind was telling me NOT to share the chocolate but my heart was opposing it with equal strength. In the month of giving, I sincerely took out the entire bar and offered it to the sweet looking Muslim girl.

She was taken aback by my actions. She smiled and muttured, "Chocolate??. Now that's funny. First time I've seen anyone breaking their fast with chocolate", she exclaimed. "Believe me, this is the first time I'm breaking fast with chocolate too", I replied. "Have some", I insisted, as I motioned to her to help herself to the chocolate.

As soon as she put it into her mouth, I could sense whatever she was feeling at that moment. Her eyes just grew larger as she munched on the chocolate only for it to disappear down her throat and left her wishing she had taken more! Within a few seconds, she asked me where I got the chocolate from and very soon, two strangers were pretty much engulfed in a chocolatey conversation.

It was funny I thought to myself how I was hell bent on not sharing that coveted chocolate with anyone else but in this holy month, I guess miracles are continuously occurring if only we allow ourselves to open up and help others. After all, life is much about giving and sharing. They say happiness is much more bliss if it is shared.

By coincidence, Sarah, the sweet looking Muslim girl was about to alight at the next stop and I plcuked enough courage to ask for her telephone number, not because I just learnt that she's as much a chocolate addict as I am but solely because she was a great conversationalist.

Sarah keyed in her number on my mobile phone without much haste before leaning forward to my ear begging, "Can I Have Somemore Chocolate please?"

I told you that this wasn't your typical bar of chocolate. ;)