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In the sleepy town of Shantipur, nestled between two winding rivers, life moved at its own slow pace. The chatter of birds in the trees, the rustling of old newspapers on verandahs, and the clinking of teacups set the rhythm for the day. But every Saturday, something exciting happened that made everyone sit up and take notice—the Golden Delight Cake at The Flour Power bakery. And behind it was none other than Mrs. Anita, the town’s beloved baker.
Mrs. Anita, in her 50s, had inherited The Flour Power from her grandmother and continued to bake the legendary Golden Delight Cake that her customers adored. The cake, with its golden crust and melt-in-your-mouth texture, had a secret recipe. Mrs. Anita guarded it closely, refusing to even write it down.
But one fateful Saturday morning, chaos ensued. Mrs. Anita rummaged through her kitchen, her brow furrowed, muttering to herself, “I know I kept it here somewhere.”
She called out to her assistant, “Ravi, have you seen the recipe book? The one with my grandmother’s handwriting?”
Ravi, a lanky boy who had been working there for the past year, scratched his head. “No, ma’am. I saw it last week on the shelf.”
The realization hit Mrs. Anita hard. The recipe had gone missing. For the first time in decades, she couldn’t bake the Golden Delight Cake. Her heart sank, and with a heavy sigh, she rushed to her phone.
Within half an hour, her three best friends—Mr. Patel, Mr. Shankar, and Mrs. Radha—arrived, armed with magnifying glasses and notepads. These three retired friends, former amateur detectives during their younger days, had a flair for turning even the smallest mishap into a full-blown mystery.
“Right, we need to investigate!” declared Mr. Patel, puffing out his chest. He was short, balding, and wore glasses that magnified his eyes comically. “Where was the book last seen?”
“On the kitchen shelf,” Mrs. Anita replied, “I remember keeping it there. I never take it out of the bakery.”
Mr. Shankar, taller and more serious, nodded sagely. “That means we’re looking at a case of possible theft. Or,” he paused for dramatic effect, “sabotage!”
Mrs. Radha, who had a love for gossip, chimed in. “Maybe one of your customers wanted the recipe for themselves!”
Mrs. Anita gasped, her mind racing. Could it be? She had regulars, loyal customers… but someone stealing her precious recipe?
As the investigation began, Mr. Patel and Mr. Shankar took it upon themselves to question the townspeople.
The first suspect was young Rohan, the postman, who had recently shown an interest in baking. “I swear, I didn’t touch it!” Rohan protested, his eyes wide. “I may have asked for the recipe once, but I would never steal it!”
Then there was Mrs. Gomes, who ran a café across the street and had been a little too curious about Mrs. Anita’s cake lately. “Are you suggesting I’d steal it?” she laughed. “Darling, my café is doing fine without that recipe!”
The three detectives interviewed half the town, turning every small clue into a wild theory. Rumors spread like wildfire, and the whole town buzzed with speculation. Who could have taken the recipe?
Meanwhile, Tara, a quiet girl in her twenties who had recently moved to Shantipur, watched the chaos unfold from a distance. She had always loved baking but never had the confidence to pursue it seriously. Tara had been shy ever since she was a little girl, and moving to a new town had made her even more withdrawn. She admired Mrs. Anita from afar and secretly dreamed of learning from her.
One day, as she sat in the park, thinking about the missing recipe, an idea struck her. “What if I try baking my own version of the cake?” she whispered to herself. “I know it won’t be the same, but maybe it will bring a smile to Mrs. Anita’s face.”
She rushed home, pulled out her grandmother’s old recipe book, and got to work. Tara spent the entire night in her small kitchen, experimenting with ingredients, tweaking the recipe bit by bit until the sweet smell of something wonderful filled the air.
The next morning, the town gathered at The Flour Power as usual, hoping that somehow, Mrs. Anita had found the missing recipe. Mrs. Anita, looking forlorn, stood behind the counter with empty hands.
Suddenly, Tara walked in, holding a tray covered with a cloth. Her heart raced as she approached Mrs. Anita. “I… I tried making something similar to your Golden Delight Cake. I know it’s not the same, but… would you like to try it?”
Mrs. Anita, surprised by the shy girl’s boldness, smiled warmly. “Thank you, Tara. That’s very kind of you.”
She lifted the cloth, revealing a beautiful cake, golden and perfectly baked. The smell was different from the usual, but it was inviting. Mrs. Anita took a slice and tasted it. Her eyes lit up.
“Tara, this is incredible!” she exclaimed. “It’s not exactly the Golden Delight, but it’s delicious in its own right. You’ve created something unique!”
The townspeople gathered around to try the cake, and soon, laughter and compliments filled the bakery. Everyone loved Tara’s creation, and before long, she found herself surrounded by new friends, praising her talent.
In the days that followed, The Flour Power became even more popular. Tara’s cake became a new favorite, and Mrs. Anita proudly sold it alongside her other creations. The mystery of the missing recipe? Well, it was never solved. But Mrs. Anita wasn’t worried anymore. She had discovered something more valuable—a new baker in town, someone who had brought a fresh flavor to Shantipur’s Saturdays.
And as for the old detectives? They still met every weekend at the bakery, pouring over new puzzles and theories, convinced that someday, they would crack the case. But for now, the town was happy, and so was Tara. After all, sometimes the best surprises are the ones we don’t planned
Rajat chandra sarmah
Guwahati ,Assam , India
3/10/2024
