The Honey Cake's Sugar Topping

The Story of a mother and her daughter affiliated by birth but dichotomous by art.The Honey Cake's Sugar topping is an attempt to portray the journey of two similar people with dissimilar choices.

“Merveilleux ,  Fantastique  “

“The taste was simply out of the world Mrs. Hammond” were the words echoing from one of the dining halls on the sixth floor of a luxurious Dine-in. It is one of the renowned restaurants of the city famous for its French cuisine. The room was abuzz over the food served. The chatter soon died down as the people moved out of the dining hall to their respective dwelling places for the night’s slumber. Lisa, a woman in her mid-forties was driving through the dark lanes. She was fair, tall and possessed straight and short hair.

The city roads seemed bleak and the occasional passing of the cars gave her a hint of the human existence in the city. The darkness and the desertedness didn’t seem to bother her today. She was feeling ecstatic about the dinner which she has presented with her team on the event of a “French Food Festival”. People hailed her for her hard work and talent which played a key role in making the event a grand success. She has also been promised a considerable hike in the salary for the success achieved. The swiftly passing car pulled down to a slower pace on the road. A painting of a mother holding her infant to her bosom and is found overwhelmed by the very presence of her baby in her arms. The artiste of this master piece is lying next to this creation on the edge of the road which is paved with the footpath painted in mushy yellow and black stripes. She felt the pangs of guilt piercing through her brain as her thoughts drifted to the conversation she had at the breakfast table that morning.

                “The sandwiches are made and packed for your lunch Annie. We are already running late on time, why don’t you finish you eggs and bread??? “

“Come down right now”

 

Annie, a girl of twenty, rather frail with a dusky complexion rushed down the stairs to oblige her mother. She wore her hair in a braid. She is dressed in pink tunic with blue jeans. One of her hands was filled with the colourful bangles and a pleasant jingling noise was emanated when they moved while the other was adorned with a mere crystal watch. The girl sped down the staircase and rather glided into one of the dining chairs at the table. She quaffed down her share of eggs and moved to grab her piece of bread. Lucy Hammond, sitting across the table to finish her morning coffee had the eye of an eagle. Eyeing her daughter’s intake of the nutrients she discovered Annie’s hands splodged with shades of orange, red and an occasional light green. She was infuriated and yelled out

“Have you been painting again?? “

“Is this the reason of you being late? Have you no reverence for what your father wanted? “

“Don’t you regret troubling your mother all the time with your silly deeds?”

There came an apology so mild and merely perceptible.

“I am sorry mom but I had to finish my painting before leaving for school today. You know how much I intend to establish a career in painting. Why don’t you aide me in achieving it??”

“These mundane scribbles can never give you a life. This is no good of a career.”

“Give up this delirium and start working now. A scion of such gifted cooks shouldn’t be wasting her valuable time in this nugatory business.”

Annie has finished her bread and barged onto the road and out of her house. As she was walking down the roads she felt an irrepressible stream of drops flowing out of her eyes, she was sobbing. She detested her life. She often craved to end up this life and start anew building a career with the love of her life, painting. She was no amateur in the world of painting. Her hand moved with such intricate pattern that confecting the best of portraits was a child’s play. She reckoned that painting is the biggest asset she has been endowed with, in this otherwise moribund world. She was cognizant of the fact that she was born to paint but brought up to cook. She never felt that she had a place for cooking in her life but appertaining to the family who has concocted five hundred and twelve recipes by mere passion and hard work she knew she had no choice but to follow the treaded path paved for her way before she became a part of this planet Earth. She reached her school. This is where she is forcefully sent to sharpen her culinary skills and become a professional, MSB School OF Hotel Management and Culinary art. She entered in through the big black gates of the campus. The model of the college was sculpted using vegetables and is placed in a big glass box in the centre of the campus. An astonishing illustration of the skill owned by the students of this esteemed institution. The etching of the model of this building into the vegetables and fruits was magnificent. One look at it would enrapture one’s thoughts for a minute. The prototype was surrounded by a number of round tables on which students were found busy making the recipe of the month with their team mates. Recipe-of �"the-Month, is one of the innovative programmes launched by the management of the college to make the learning easy for the students and to provide them an encouraging environment to improvise their skills. What caught her attention wasn’t the prototype or the mouth-watering aroma that is lingering in the air formed by the incessant cooking but a couple of tulips that were planted around the prototype. Unintentionally she began picturing the process of painting them and the colours to be used. Her chain of thoughts was disrupted as she heard someone shouting for her. It was one of her course mates who have been trying to reach her as she was already late for the event. Annie beckoned that she will be reaching the table of their team and sneaked into the restroom. She tidied up her eye liner, wiped her face and rushed to the table to catch up with the preparations. She has been late and was humiliated by the mentor of the team for being unpunctual and exhibiting a careless attitude. She has been blamed for masking her inability to cook and ruining her parents’ fame. She tried to ignore the harsh words and she tried to concentrate on the cooking being done. Due to lack of any culinary skills she was always assigned menial jobs of washing the fruits and vegetables and cutting them. The major part of the cooking was done by the other team mates and the appreciation for winning the competition was also grabbed away by them.

                The team managed to win the first prize for their creation called “The Spinach Noodles and The Cold Soup”. Hardly people congratulated Annie for the team’s success. She has received a formal invite for the celebration party and she made it a point to skip away the event as the rest of the team were totally indifferent to her and her absence at the party would not bother anyone. She finished her study hours at the school and was heading back home. Thoughts were flooding her brain and she was tried to swim on to the shore safely. Her final exams were due in a week and she will have a practical session where she ought to be devising a recipe and exhibit her cooking skills to earn her grades. The thought of cooking a new recipe all alone almost knocked her mind off. She felt dizzy and weak. She hurried home to save herself from breaking down with fear on the road. She reached home and locked herself in her room. She thought of all the recipes she has ever learnt and tried to decide on what is to be cooked on the big day. The preparations have been begun and Annie was burning the midnight oil to get through the course with a decent grade.

The exam was to be conducted on a Sunday and the college authorities announced that the exam would be open to visitors as that would attract more number of students applying for the college admission next year. It was a Saturday and Annie was back from school early to get an extra hour to allot for her preparation. She rushed into the house and now was moving towards her room. She heard her mother speak from the drawing room.

“ Annie , could you please come down here? I have an important thing to tell you.”

She turned back and moved to the room.

“Annie, I suppose tomorrow you have your final exam to prove yourself.’

“I have been requested by The Head of your school to help them select the best recipe tomorrow and also award the other students with their grades, I am obliged to assist them in their endeavour to present to the world the best cook and the most innovative recipe.”

“I hope you have done your preparation and won’t let me down this time. I have already put up with your obsession and have been quite patient in providing you with the best of the resources and time to equip yourself with the greatest of the culinary skills.”

“Kindly do not let me down this time because this is the last time I have been asking you of something worthy Annie. If it is not tomorrow It will never be, annie.”

“i beg of you to save me from becoming the laughing stock of the TOWN, Annie.”

Her mother walked out of the room with these final sentences.

 

Annie never got to talk .She felt lost and distraught. She reached her room and lay down on the floor and began weeping. A rampant flood of tears flowed down through her face and onto the surface of the floor. She tried to cease her free flowing thoughts and emotions but in vain she gave up and soon succumbed to sleep. She woke up to discover that she has slept off the night and it was 7.A.M. of the Big Day. Her heart skipped a beat. Fear gripped her like a python and she was suffocating to get through it to face the reality. She shuddered at the thought of the exam. She was ready for school in a jiffy and rushed to reach school early so she can find some time to revise her portions of study. She was haunted by the fear of failing. She felt her mind being crushed. She could take no more. The session has started and the pupil were given an hour to exhibit their study of the course and the latent talents of culinary art. Each one of them was given a closed cabin and at the sound of the alarm marking the onset of the exam all the students got busy in showcasing their recipe of the day. Annie also started preparing her recipe. She felt her hands shaky while picking up the ingredients.

The allotted hour has finished and the Panel of Judges was on their way to examine the work of the students. Lucy entered into the area accompanied by the other members of the panel. The students were eager to show off their preparations for the day. The various delicacies present there were inspected in detail. The marks have been awarded for all the 19 students and the judges reached the last cabin. There was a name board with the name “Annie” displayed on it.  They found that the cabin has no inhabitant but the most beautiful of a cake was placed on the centre of the cabin table. The group of judges let out a cry of marvel at the sight of the cake.

There stood a cake with 3 different layers painted in different colour hues. The first layer of the cake had the picture of a girl sitting in the corner of a room filled with variety of colours and shapes. Heterogeneous paintings in their miniature avatar adorned the walls of the room in which a girl was sitting and was found busily mastering the art of painting. Every tiny painting which was in turn part of a bigger scene was painted in such detail. The colours used for portraying this scene were vivid. The second layer of the cake had a girl standing on a road and the path lead the girl into intangible darkness. The girl stood on the road gaping into darkness and unsure if it is to be followed. Reluctant were the expressions on her face to walk down the street and in her hand she held a ladle and on her head a Chef’s hat had its creases painted with care and devotion. The third layer was painted scene of a girl who buried her unrestrained weeping face in her hands. On the top end left corner of the third layer was a message written “I can’t do this anymore. I am sorry”. The sugar has been powdered and is coloured with edible food colour was used for this art. The same was diluted into liquid, paste and powder using rum, vodka and clear liquor.  Seeing the judges’ astonishment over the work of the last participant all the other students gathered around to witness the recipe. Praises for the student were flying high and the panel wanted to meet the creator of this divine art in person. People gazed at the art wide eyed and open mothed. The have named it cake art. Though the taste of the cake wasn’t commendable a dominant taste of honey throughout none seemed to give it much thought. The cake won the third prize for the art of presentation. Annie was called on to receive her grades. The proud mother, Mrs. Lucy Hammond was busy speaking to people about the love of her daughter for painting and how ignorant has she been about her talented daughter all the while. After a thorough search on the campus Annie’s seating table at the classroom had a letter which revealed that she has been nominated for an art course with scholarship from one of the finest schools in Italy and she has been also funded for her travel. She apologized for not being able to become what has been dreamed of her and that she is leaving to prove that a career as good as any other can be made by the love of her life too, Painting.