Outside, Mauritius was slowly falling asleep under a soft drizzle.
The streets of Curepipe were wet. Headlights reflected on the roads like little rivers of light. Small food stalls were closing one after another while the cold evening breeze carried the smell of dholl puri and rain through the town.
Inside a crowded bus coming from Ebene, 23-year-old Ayaan sat quietly near the window holding his phone tightly in his hand.
His salary had just entered his bank account.
His very first salary.
Rs 18,500.
To many people, it was just another amount.
But to him…
It felt like the beginning of manhood.
He stared at the SMS from the bank again and again.
Then slowly, his eyes became emotional.
Because all he could think about…
…was his father.
His baba.
The man who spent his entire life sacrificing silently.
The man who never bought new clothes for himself so his children could go to school properly.
The man who woke up at 4:30 every morning for work, even when his back was hurting.
The man who ate “dipin ek fromage” quietly some nights pretending he wasn’t hungry because money was tight.
Ayaan remembered something from years ago.
One rainy night in Mauritius, when he was still in secondary school, he had asked his father:
“Baba… mo besoin ene laptop pou mo capav etidie…”
He still remembered the silence that followed.
His father had smiled softly and replied:
“Pa trakass twa mo garson… Baba pou trouve.”
Three days later, his father came home with a second-hand laptop.
Only much later did Ayaan discover the truth.
His father had sold his wedding gold chain to buy it.
Ayaan never forgot that.
Never.
The bus stopped near Phoenix.
Rain continued falling outside.
Ayaan wiped his eyes quickly before anyone noticed.
Then suddenly, he opened Google and typed:
The first thing he clicked was Cakebury.mu
As he scrolled through the chocolate cakes, something inside him broke emotionally.
For years, his father had bought cakes for everybody else.
Birthdays.
Achievements.
Family celebrations.
But nobody had ever really celebrated him.
Nobody had ever thanked him properly.
Ayaan looked at one rich chocolate cake covered with KitKat, ganache, and soft dripping chocolate.
And quietly whispered:
“Sa zour la… c’est pou toi baba.”
He ordered the cake immediately on Cakebury.mu
Message on the cake:
“Merci pou tou sacrifice Baba. Mo krwar dan moi akoz toi.”
The Cakebury cake delivery arrived later that evening at their small house in Quatre Bornes.
His mother opened the door first.
“Ki ete sa?”
Ayaan smiled nervously.
“Pa dire baba…”
Inside the living room, his father was sitting on the old sofa watching the news on MBC while drinking black tea.
Tired.
Quiet.
Like always.
Then the box was placed on the table.
His father looked confused.
“Ki pe feter zordi?”
Ayaan could not even answer properly.
His throat was already tight.
Slowly, he opened the Cakebury box.
The smell of chocolate filled the room instantly.
Rich.
Warm.
Comforting.
His father read the message on the cake silently.
And for a few seconds…
Nobody spoke.
Then something happened that Ayaan had never seen in his entire life.
His father started crying.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just silent tears falling while trying to smile.
The kind of tears Mauritian fathers try their whole lives to hide.
“Mo fier ar toi mo garson…”
That sentence shattered Ayaan completely.
He hugged his father tightly.
Rain continued outside.
But inside that tiny Mauritian house…
Years of sacrifice, love, pain, and gratitude were sitting together around one chocolate cake.
And for the first time in a very long time…
His father finally felt seen.
Cakebury | it’s a love thing
Luxury Chocolate Cakes & Cake Delivery Across Mauritius
Order on:
https://cakebury.mu
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