I have always had an intense and emotional relationship with everything sweet. I blame it on my Bengali genes and socio-cultural conditioning. It probably started with my great grandmother introducing the ritual of placing a bowl of two small roshogolla next to my bed every day. Afternoon naps were meant to end on a sweet note, she reasoned. I was hooked. So much so, that during a family trip to Srinagar, I drove everyone up the wall with my demand for "rosso". My grandfather went all over Srinagar to find a suitable substitute.

If you are a Bengali, such stories earn you the affection and admiration of peers. A sweet tooth is a marker of cultural identity and pride. And denial and defiance are the weapons brandished liberally in the community against diabetes. Walk into any sweet shop, and you are likely to meet exactly the kind of people who are not supposed to be anywhere near a roshogolla.