It's just a cake!
Its just a cake.
"What are you doing?" asked Hardik, as his fiancé looked at another picture of what she liked to call her perfect wedding cake. Frankly to him it was a whole lot of nonsense, but it wasn't like he had much of an option. Once his fiancé decided that something needed to be done, she usually went ahead with it and did it.
He frowned as he saw the picture in her hand. The man behind the counter, who looked suspiciously bright eyed, gave him a bright smile and clapped his hands together in apparent pleasure. Radha thrust the picture before him, and his eyes grew wide as he saw the cake.
To say that it was unique was an understatement. To say that he was going to have that cake at his wedding was outright hilarious.
"We can't have that ...That thing," he said, waving his hand out at the picture. It looked more like a picture out of a fairytale book, rather than a cake. With a purple base and green grass on the second layer, the cake made it impossible for him imagine how his conservative grandmother would look taking a bite out of it.
"What's wrong with it?" asked Radha turning to him. "Oh Hardik, its perfect! It reminds me of how my friends and I looked while we were studying during our last years at boarding school," she said, waving the picture around again. The gesture was lost on Hardik, as he looked deeply at the picture. After the green layer of grass ended, two girls, apparently engrossed in their own world, sat gossiping below a tree.
"You want our wedding cake to have a tree on top? Instead of you and me?" he asked, his voice rising little bit, shrill like a banshee’s. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and looked at the man behind the counter, "Don't you have something normal or even semi-normal?"
"Now Hardik, that's rude. And it's not like it's an ugly tree. This tree has golden leaves ..."
"Which still does not make me feel any better?" he said. Radha merely shushed him, and turned back to the owner of the store.
"We'll be taking this," she said.
"No we won't. I swear Radha, if that is my wedding cake, then I shall refuse to marry you," he said, desperation evident in his voice.
"Too bad. Our mothers will kill you for breaking my heart. This is the cake we will be taking," she said turning back to the owner of the shop.
"No we won't. Radha it has a tree on it for God's sake. I'd rather that it had you and me on it," he said softly.
"I thought you said anything I wanted could be mine," she said, her eyes narrowing.
"I did. But please Radha anything but this thing," he said, softly taking her hands in his.
"Listen to me this once dear," he begged. Radha looked closely at her fiancé.
"Excuse- me madam, will you be taking this cake?" the man asked again. Radha turned to him and gave him a small apologetic smile. "Maybe not. I think big guy here doesn't like black current," she said smiling up at Hardik.
"Wait a minute, did you say black-current. I love that flavour. Radha this thing is perfect," said Hardik.
"Oh no. Hardik, we're not having a tree on top of our wedding cake."
"What are you doing?" asked Hardik, as his fiancé looked at another picture of what she liked to call her perfect wedding cake. Frankly to him it was a whole lot of nonsense, but it wasn't like he had much of an option. Once his fiancé decided that something needed to be done, she usually went ahead with it and did it.
He frowned as he saw the picture in her hand. The man behind the counter, who looked suspiciously bright eyed, gave him a bright smile and clapped his hands together in apparent pleasure. Radha thrust the picture before him, and his eyes grew wide as he saw the cake.
To say that it was unique was an understatement. To say that he was going to have that cake at his wedding was outright hilarious.
"We can't have that ...That thing," he said, waving his hand out at the picture. It looked more like a picture out of a fairytale book, rather than a cake. With a purple base and green grass on the second layer, the cake made it impossible for him imagine how his conservative grandmother would look taking a bite out of it.
"What's wrong with it?" asked Radha turning to him. "Oh Hardik, its perfect! It reminds me of how my friends and I looked while we were studying during our last years at boarding school," she said, waving the picture around again. The gesture was lost on Hardik, as he looked deeply at the picture. After the green layer of grass ended, two girls, apparently engrossed in their own world, sat gossiping below a tree.
"You want our wedding cake to have a tree on top? Instead of you and me?" he asked, his voice rising little bit, shrill like a banshee’s. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and looked at the man behind the counter, "Don't you have something normal or even semi-normal?"
"Now Hardik, that's rude. And it's not like it's an ugly tree. This tree has golden leaves ..."
"Which still does not make me feel any better?" he said. Radha merely shushed him, and turned back to the owner of the store.
"We'll be taking this," she said.
"No we won't. I swear Radha, if that is my wedding cake, then I shall refuse to marry you," he said, desperation evident in his voice.
"Too bad. Our mothers will kill you for breaking my heart. This is the cake we will be taking," she said turning back to the owner of the shop.
"No we won't. Radha it has a tree on it for God's sake. I'd rather that it had you and me on it," he said softly.
"I thought you said anything I wanted could be mine," she said, her eyes narrowing.
"I did. But please Radha anything but this thing," he said, softly taking her hands in his.
"Listen to me this once dear," he begged. Radha looked closely at her fiancé.
"Excuse- me madam, will you be taking this cake?" the man asked again. Radha turned to him and gave him a small apologetic smile. "Maybe not. I think big guy here doesn't like black current," she said smiling up at Hardik.
"Wait a minute, did you say black-current. I love that flavour. Radha this thing is perfect," said Hardik.
"Oh no. Hardik, we're not having a tree on top of our wedding cake."
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