Chaman Ice Cream: An Old Favorite
Chaman ice cream is a double-storied building that stands on Beadan Road amidst various shops providing ice cream, Dahi Bhallay Chaat, and dried fruit to visitors. The street, though crowded with shops stacked like dominos, tempts one with its bustle, colorful signs, and carefully arranged almonds, dates, and various other food products. I could not resist taking a picture of the dates on offer. Old love dies hard I guess.
As I walked into Chaman ice cream, I noticed that the place was jam-packed with people from different parts of Lahore. I was by my lonesome, so I walked into the male compartment rather than the family hall, and sat in a corner.
Chaman had plain tables and comfortable black leather benches up for grabs. I waited for a while before the white-cap-wearing teen waiter responded my loud beckons. He brought a torn and abraded menu, which seemed to have suffered the violence of careless hands. Since this wasn’t my first visit I could understand why the menu looked the way that it did.
After the waiter left with my order, I looked around at the walls. They were either covered with glasses and fans, or religious verses. While taking pictures of my ice cream cup from ludicrous angles, I laughed at myself, remembering that I used to annoy a female friend for the same thing, every time we sat together for a meal
The waiter served me a mix of vanilla and chocolate chip in a large cup, as demanded. After hours of wandering around and shopping, and that too alone, the ice cream seemed like a fair treat on a wintry day. As I took spoonfuls of cream and crunchy chocolate chips, I trembled momentarily with the cold provoking the nerves under my gums. I was tired, and the cold spoons of vanilla cream placated my weary bones.
While savoring the ice cream, I happened to notice that newer, fruitier flavors had been brought into the fold. As I am, by birth, a fruit-lover, I regretted not trying the new entrants. This regret did not last long, as I relished vanilla and chocolate to my heart’s content and consoled myself by promising a visit in the near future to sample what I truly craved.
Before paying the bill on the counter, I noticed a beautiful piece of artwork hanging from the ceiling, carved in wood. I took a moment to capture this striking image, and left relieved. Though Chaman might appear bland to some visitors, and the noise might displease others, it expiates all its flaws with delicious cream.
