My love for edible sweets is in contrast to the antipathy I have for honeyed words and syrupy gestures. The concept of sugar-coated pills is a camouflage. It is the bitterness that cures, whether in medical cases or ones that life experiences confront you with.
Imagine my delight, then, to come upon this advertisement:
Besides the many ways it claims to give you an "untouched by hand" product, I was intrigued by a phrase used for marketing it:
It is metaphor and metaphysical at the same time and could allude to the doubting I spoke about.
However, does anyone really doubt sweetness for itself? Is the sweet truly sweet unless one has tasted it? Is its sweetness tested against other tastes that go through a similar test? How does one grade sweetness, and does sweetness not lie in the tongue of the taster, making it not absolute even in the gradation?
Terms of endearment are indeed endearing; it is the deftness with which they are recycled that makes you realise they have traveled far, sowed their wild oats, in a manner.
There are negative connotations associated with the word 'doubt' and positive with 'sweetness'. But, doubt is not always about suspicion. It is not particularly cautious too. The fact that one doubts reveals that one has taken a risk and ventured close enough to check whether the sweetness is coated with bile.
It is only then that you are rewarded with doubt-free sweetness.
The other evening, upon realising there was no post-meal sweet around, I became restless. I foraged in the fridge, my hands reaching out behind boxes, beneath the egg tray. In one corner was a plastic bag of golden-wrapped coins. This wasn't the eponymous chocolate, but a version sold at the local store. It tasted like sugar-covered dough, and was pushed away, reluctant as I am to throw away anything. On that day, though, I forgot about this. I started peeling the wrap and as it sat on my tongue I felt a surge of sweetness dissolve. After a few minutes, I could taste the dough again.
Because of my need, I had discarded proven doubt. It did not last long. The sweetness was hollow. A pretender.
Is that why I trust bitter chocolate the most?
© Farzana Versey