Do blueberry muffins ring a bell?

It's quite late by the time I get back from office. And dark too.

In not-so-safe New Delhi, it's a good idea to know who you are opening your doors to -- especially at night.

So when someone rings the doorbell, and all Mom can see through the grill door is the silhouette of a person standing outside, she asks "Who is it?"

And I answer 'blueberry muffin'.

That's the cue for her to open the door.

Yes, we have a password system that's safer than most burglar alarms, vicious dogs and electric fences.

This month, the magic word is 'blueberry muffin'.

Last month, it was 'chocolate chip icecream'.

"But why only food?" says Mom. "Why can't we have sensible passwords?"

Well, that's because I set the passwords and I have a sweet tooth. It's a diet that has seen me go from 'thin' to 'no-longer-thin' on my blog profile in just five years.

And if cutting back on desserts (I swear I am) is a good thing, I can at least relive those sweet memories at night -- when I utter the calorie-filled syllables that gain me access to my home.