Sweet Tooth

There are several sweet shops quite near my house. I am not fond of sweets, so when one more sweet shop opened recently, I had no reason to jump with joy even though it was the closest to my house. I visit confectioners only once or twice a year — during the Diwali Festival or when we have guests.

But this sweet shop is really elegant-looking. It has a glass front, which allows a wonderful view of all the sweet stuff inside. The sweets, neatly stacked, look appealing.

One day, some guests arrived. It is customary to offer sweets to guests, and mom asked me to get some. I picked up a bag, went to the confectioner's, and gave my list to the salesman. There were no other customers at that time, but as the salesman was measuring out my items, an elderly person walked in.

"How much are laddoos?" he asked.

"Rs. 140 per kilogram," the salesman said.

"How much are barfis?"

The salesman told him the rate.

The man wanted to know the rates of a few other sweets, and the salesman told him the rates dutifully.

"They look good," the man said, looking at the sweets, arranged in trays displayed on the countertop.

"Do they taste as good? I must taste a sample before I buy anything."

He picked up a barfi and popped it into his mouth. "It is good," he said, expressing his satisfaction, and walked out of the shop without buying anything.

The salesmen muttered among themselves; they had been suspicious about the man's intentions right from the beginning, having encountered many customers like him before.

Apparently, the sight of the sweets from outside was so alluring that the man was unable to resist the temptation and had walked in for a free treat!