Once upon a time in a quaint little town, there lived a girl named Rupa. She who was madly, hopelessly, and irrationally in love with a guy named Vasooli.
Now, Vasooli wasn’t just any guy—he was the local egg seller.
Every morning, he would be out on the streets with his cart, yelling, “Eggs! Fresh eggs!” Rupa’s heart would skip a beat every time she heard his voice.
She had fallen hard for him, as hard as an egg smashing on the pavement.
When her parents found out about her love for Vasooli, they were less than thrilled. But their dismay turned into absolute horror when they discovered that their beloved daughter was in love with a man who sold—of all things—eggs! How could this happen to their precious Rupa? A girl from such a respectable family, dreaming of a life with a man whose livelihood was based on something so... fragile!
But Rupa didn’t care. She had gotten close to Vasooli—closer than her parents ever wanted her too. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.
He was her sunshine, her rainbow after the rain, her… well, her egg in the basket.
As the days passed, she missed him more and more, and her parents grew more desperate to marry her off to someone more suitable.
Someone rich. Someone who didn’t sell eggs.
So, they began searching for the perfect, egg-free suitor. When Rupa found out about their plans, she was devastated.
She couldn’t bear the thought of marrying someone else, someone she didn’t even know.
But her parents had found a man, and not just any man—this one was rich, owned a famous hotel abroad, and, most importantly, had never touched an egg in his life.
Rupa begged her parents to let her marry the love of her life, Vasooli, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.
On the day of the wedding, she was forced into a wedding gown that felt more like a straitjacket.
After she was dressed, she was given a few moments alone. Rupa quickly pulled out her smartphone from her hidden pocket in her high-knee stocking—because where else would you hide a phone?—and called Vasooli.
“Vasooli!” she whispered frantically, “They’re making me marry some rich guy! You have to do something!”
Vasooli, on the other end, was livid.
His beloved Rupa, forced to marry another man? No way!
Without a second thought, he grabbed his friends, his cart, and a truck full of eggs and headed straight to the wedding venue.
Before he left, he fumbled with his old, battered button phone, the one Rupa had given him for Valentine’s Day years ago.
The numbers were almost completely faded, but he dialed what he hoped was the right number.
Rupa answered on the first ring. “Vasooli, are you coming?”
“Yes, and we’re not leaving without you!” Vasooli replied. He tried to convince her to run away with him right then and there, but Rupa hesitated. Before she could make up her mind, the door to her room opened, and she had no choice but to hang up.
With her heart pounding, Rupa was escorted down the aisle by her father.
The groom stood at the altar, looking ridiculous in a pink tuxedo, which Rupa’s parents thought was stylish and modern.
But all she could think about was Vasooli and his crazy plan. As she reached the altar, the priest began reciting the vows, and everyone in the church leaned in, giving their full attention.
And then, it happened.
An egg flew through the air, hitting the groom square in the face. The entire congregation gasped in shock.
The groom’s mother let out an ear-piercing “Oh my God!” while two children in the front row burst into uncontrollable laughter.
“What on earth is happening?” someone whispered.
“Gross! Eww!” someone else chimed in.
The laughter subsided as everyone turned to stare at the groom, whose face was now a mess of egg whites and yolks.
His parents rushed to his side, trying to wipe the mess off with handkerchiefs. But before they could clean him up, more eggs came flying, splattering all over the groom and his horrified mother.
With a triumphant smile plastered on his face, Vasooli marched into the church, dragging a cart full of eggs behind him. His friends followed, hurling eggs in every direction.
The walls of the church were soon covered in egg whites and yolks, dripping onto the marble floors, while the priest slipped on the mess, landing flat on his back with a muttered “Hallelujah!”
Rupa’s father, red with fury, began to yell at Vasooli, but Vasooli had reached his breaking point.
With a furious yell, he launched more eggs at him.
The once elegant church was now a war zone, with egg shells littering the floor where rose petals should have been.
Guests ducked and dodged, trying to avoid the flying projectiles, while Vasooli made his way to Rupa.
“Psst, Rupa!” Vasooli called, his voice barely audible over the chaos. Rupa lifted her now egg-drenched gown, hesitated for just a second, and then ran towards him, throwing a few eggs behind her as a final act of defiance.
The two of them dashed out of the church, leaving behind a scene of utter mayhem.
***
-A Few Years Later-
Rupa had come a long way from that chaotic wedding day. She now owned a successful egg factory, of all things, and lived a peaceful life with Vasooli and their fifteen-year-old daughter, Varupa.
They also had a lovely little backyard farm where Varupa spent her days planting vegetables and tending to her tiny poultry farm.
Every Sunday, Varupa would head out to the farm with her puppy, collecting eggs and harvesting fresh produce for dinner.
She loved the simple pleasures of life, like watching the sunset by the small lake or playing with the ducklings.
It was a life far removed from the chaos of her parents’ past.
One day, as Varupa was preparing dinner, she asked her parents, “What ever happened to the groom’s parents after that unforgettable wedding day?”
Rupa and Vasooli exchanged knowing glances and burst into laughter.
“That’s a story for another day,” they said, teasingly, leaving Varupa curious and amused.
As she went to bed that night, Varupa fell asleep with a smile, dreaming of the simple, happy life she loved so much, and wondering what other surprises her parents’ past held.
-The End-
