I can’t think of a better way to celebrate Shakespeare’s birthday than by parodying his most famous line.

Well, I can’t say for sure it is Shakespeare’s birthday. That fabled baptismal record could be just that: a fable. But let’s play along and say today is the playwright’s 462nd birth anniversary. And, as the story goes, his 410th death anniversary.

What I can say for sure is that I’m not the first person to parody Shakespeare’s most famous line. Who knows, maybe Shakespeare himself did it after Hamlet premiered in 1600.

The first time I can recall parodying Shakespeare’s most famous line in print is in a piece I submitted to the Times of India in 1997. The “middle,” as such pieces were called when I was writing them, was titled “Death of a Salesmania.”

Yes, I like parodying famous titles too.

“Death of a Salesmania” chronicled my (mis)adventures at a shoe-shop in Mumbai that had its annual sale around the ides of March. While narrating how I was tempted to buy two pairs instead of one at the aforesaid annual sale, I wrote:

“To buy or not to buy, that was the question, which I, unlike a certain very tragic hero, settled swiftly by deciding to buy both.

Almost 30 years later, I cringe at the insouciance (and the gaucherie) of my “very.”

And I despair that my late salesmania has been raised from the dead. Just last week I bought two purses on sale when I didn’t even need one.

Not only am I not the first person to parody Shakespeare’s most famous line, but I bet I’m also not the first person to come up with “To brie or not to brie.” No doubt some ambivalent chef beat me to it centuries ago.

And this brings me to the present.

One evening earlier this week, I found myself in the gourmet aisle of a grocery store. I rarely find myself in that aisle, but I’d seen a mouthwatering reel involving Brie on Instagram earlier that day, and it was on my mind.

I picked up a box and was putting it in my cart when I wondered if I should buy another cheese instead.

I’m not proud of my indecision, but had I inherited my mom’s decisiveness, I wouldn’t be telling you this story with a Brielliant title.

I may have impeccable taste when it comes to blog titles, but my gustatory cells aren’t quite as refined. I often forget how something tastes, and that is why, when I put the Brie back, I faced yet another dilemma.

What did Gruyère taste like?

I stared at the wedges behind the glass, trying to recall the flavor. But it remained maddeningly elusive.

After wondering whether to buy or not to buy, I turned to the lady next to me. She was browsing through the row of cheeses with the savoir faire of a connoisseur.

“Excuse me, do you know what Gruyère tastes like?” I asked.

The lady turned around and said, “You want to buy it?”

It was a simple question.

But it was said in a French accent!!!

“Vous êtes française!” I exclaimed delightedly, feeling like Lemuelle, the protagonist of Gullible Travels, when she meets my editor’s favorite character.

We chatted briefly, and the lady was polite enough to pardon my broken French. Then we turned to the matter of cheese.

Being a true Frenchwoman, she said Gruyère was good but Brie was better.

My dilemma solved, I thanked her and put the box of Brie back in my cart. I said something else in broken French, she smiled, and we parted ways.

I went to the produce section to pick up a sprig of rosemary, which pairs well with Brie. And since rosemary’s for remembrance, at least according to Ophelia, I remembered to take a photo before demolishing my bread and Brie.

(c) 2026 by Sharon Arpana Edwards. All rights reserved.