My name is Rohan, and I got married last weekend. My wife’s name is Piya. She is beautiful, kind—and very sleepy at night. This is the story of our funny honeymoon night.
After the wedding, we went to a nice hotel near the beach. The room was big and clean. There were flowers on the bed and soft music playing. I smiled at Piya and said, “Finally, it’s just the two of us.”
Piya smiled too, but then she said, “I am so tired, Rohan. I danced too much at the wedding.”
I laughed and said, “It’s okay. We can rest first.”
She changed into her pajamas and sat on the bed. I tried to look romantic. I gave her a rose. But before I could say anything, she sneezed.
“Ah-choo!”
Then again.
“Ah-CHOO!”
“Oh no,” I said. “Are you okay?”
She looked at the rose and said, “I think I’m allergic to flowers.”
I quickly took the rose and threw it into the dustbin.
“Better?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Much better. But now I feel cold.”
I turned off the fan. “Now?” I asked.
“Still cold.”
So I gave her a blanket. Then she said, “Now I feel hot.”
I looked at her. “Piya, are you okay?”
She laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just confused.”
We both laughed. I thought now was the perfect time to be romantic. I sat next to her and said, “Piya, tonight is special.”
She nodded.
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door.
KNOCK KNOCK!
“Who is it?” I asked.
“Room service!” a man said.
“We didn’t order anything,” I replied.
“It’s your honeymoon cake, sir!”
Oh! We forgot about the cake. I opened the door. The man brought a heart-shaped chocolate cake.
I placed it on the table and cut a slice for Piya.
“Say aah…” I said, trying to feed her.
She opened her mouth and then—oops! The cake fell on her lap.
“Rohan!” she shouted.
“Sorry! Sorry!”
She went to the bathroom to clean the chocolate from her dress.
Five minutes later, she came out wearing a new pajama set. It had cartoon ducks on it.
“Nice ducks,” I said, trying not to laugh.
“They are comfortable,” she said, sitting back on the bed.
Then I heard a strange sound.
Growllll…
“What was that?” I asked.
“My stomach,” she said. “I think I’m hungry.”
“But we just had cake!”
“That’s not dinner.”
So, at 11 p.m., I called the hotel restaurant.
“Hello, can we get two plates of noodles, please?”
“Sir, the kitchen is closed. Only sandwiches now.”
I looked at Piya. “Sandwich okay?”
She nodded.
Fifteen minutes later, we were sitting on the bed eating sandwiches, watching cartoons. Not very romantic, but very funny.
After we finished, Piya yawned.
“I think I will sleep now,” she said.
“What about our honeymoon night?” I asked.
She smiled and said, “This is our honeymoon night. You, me, cartoons, and sandwiches. It’s perfect.”
Then she turned off the light and said, “Good night, Rohan.”
I looked at her. She was already asleep, hugging the ducky pillow.
I smiled.
Maybe it was not like the movies. No candles, no dancing, no slow music. But it was real. It was us. And I liked it.
