Ice Cream Parlours

Ice Cream Parlours are places of love. It is not as laid back as a coffee shop or a restaurant, but it still attracts couples. It could be because of the unique experience it offers—have a good time before the bowl of ice cream melts away. I’m pretty sure speed dating was invented in an ice cream parlour.

But on that hot sunny day, the last day of the year, I didn’t see anyone at the ice cream parlour. It was empty. It felt like love took a holiday. I assumed love, like everyone else, needed a break.

If I hadn’t come out of the house that day to get some printouts, the parlour would’ve stayed empty for longer. I got two scoops of tutti frutti, sat in a corner, and my mind started wandering. A melancholic 90s Bollywood song was playing in the background.

I kept thinking of random things, but my mind kept coming back to ice cream parlours.

I never spent a lot of time in ice cream parlours as I wasn’t in a relationship until I met my wife in my late 20s. My mom loves ice cream, but she isn’t too much into ice cream parlours. So, we got the cheap stuff from the supermarket. Also, like any other adult, I spent my 20s in biriyani shops listening to the clang of the ladle as the master served biriyani in tiny plates.

If not for my wife, I wouldn’t have visited an ice cream parlour. So, my memories with such places are limited. But I love the vibe they create.

As I sat there, I got reminded of the time we went to Pabbas ice cream parlour in Mangalore on our West Coast road trip. The place was huge, like a restaurant, and people started coming in and ordering ice cream from as early as 10 am! Couples in love bunked the first hour of college and walked in to share a bowl of ice cream. I’m fascinated by how couples make any place their own and make everyone else feel out of place.

And sometimes when I enter an ice cream parlour, I feel like I shouldn’t be there alone. I feel like I should be with a kid or a partner. If you’re alone, ice cream parlours make you feel more lonely than a club on a weekend night.

But I prefer the ice cream parlour when I have a dessert craving. Because walking in the street, licking a softy cone isn’t my thing. Not in a million years.

As I drank the leftover melted ice cream from the bowl, a couple walked in and ordered a two-scoop ice cream bowl with sprinkles on top. Love was back. I walked out of the place as I felt like I overstayed my welcome.