The Tasty Tale of Tasty Bread

Friends, here is a story to entertain all. Thanks.

Thursday, 5 pm, New Delhi.

Ravi is sweating.

Seated on a high red plastic stool, he is supervising the operations in his old-fashioned bakery that he inherited from his uncle. His assistants are preparing bread in three ovens, almost on a war footing. Normally, there is never this much rush in the bakery. The pace is much more moderate, in perfect tune with the serene disposition of this senior baker.

But today, the story is different. Frenzy is palpable. Everyone has a 'gung ho' approach. That may be the reason why Ravi is dressed in just a casual vest and shorts today. His assistants are sporting the same apparel, too. After all, there is no scope for a fashion parade there when you are working in the business end of a bakery. For it is a brutal area exposed to searing heat. Yes, the fashion parade is best reserved for the front end of the business.

It was this front end, represented by the air-conditioned sales outlet, that had put so much pressure on the back end. The reason had to do with a special order received yesterday evening.

***

A beautiful lady dressed like a heroine had stepped out of her Mercedes and entered the sales outlet. She was Neha Lohiya, the daughter of a Steel tycoon. Thereafter, in a sweet but steely voice, she had placed orders for fifty loaves of garlic bread.

She wanted it delivered by 10 am, Friday, to her posh residence on the Nehru Road. The occasion was a party she was throwing for a select group of her friends to celebrate the recent purchase of her glamorous car.

The bakery was happy to get the order. She was generous enough to pay as much as 75% of the billing amount as an advance. She had then made it a point to ask for the person-in-charge who was going to take care of her demand.

When Ravi came out, Neha thanked him in advance and took his contact number. Then, showering her sweet smile upon all, she was gone, leaving behind a wave of an expensive perfume.

***

“Boys,” snapped Ravi, “Buckle up. We have baked only 20 loaves so far.”

Alas, before the boys could buckle up, it was the electricity that failed to buckle up. The bakery and its neighbourhood were plunged into an inky darkness due to a sudden power outage. In all probability, it was a local short circuit. There was no option but to wait. Despite the best efforts of the electricity company, the supply could not be restored till 10 pm. That was the time when the bakery closed for the day. Everyone was in a fix. No way could the order of 50 loaves be met by tomorrow morning.

The most upset was Ravi. He knew that if he got blacklisted by the high society crowd of the Nehru Road even once, then his bakery could never hope to get more business from that lucrative market. No wonder that when he downed the shutters and came out into the pitch-dark street at 10.15 pm, his mood was equally dark.

A mobile ringing all of a sudden made everyone jump. It was Ravi’s phone. To his utmost surprise, the caller was Ms Neha.

“Ravi ji, I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour. Can you please postpone the delivery by one day? I have to reschedule my party as my best friend has got stuck in Dubai.”

A smile began hovering on the baker’s lips as he replied, “Oh! That’s so sad!”

“Ya, so can you deliver the bread to my house on Saturday, same time?

“Sure, madam. No issues. We are always here to serve you.”

The smile widened.

It was certainly the biggest smile of his life.

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