Coffee shop stories

Jan 6th 2006, Bangalore.

Late as expected….is anyone ever on time in this city?? I stood there muttering to myself. I was partly annoyed because there was not a single place within the city that was actually quiet and had good coffee, at least none that I knew of. And of the two requirements – quiet and coffee, coffee seemed to be more important. After all isn’t that what people do when they are seeing someone after a long time….meet for coffee?? Well, he was not to blame, I was 10 minutes early. I decided to stop pacing and forced myself to sit and concentrate on my white porcelain cup of filter coffee.

And there, in that street side café, tucked away in a little island of privacy, protected by potted palms and loud honking, stood a young boy with his head hanging. She sat facing away from him and trying to be unobvious wiped away a lonely tear that had managed to break loose from the taut dyke in her heart.

The tear from his eye splashed loudly on the hard concrete floor…it sounded like a perfect piece of crystal disintegrating into a million tiny pieces. He was brave! He did not hide his brokenness or his lack of comprehension. Instead he just held her hand…she had offered it as a handshake. The age old dialogue of, “Let’s remain friends”, had been abused once again.

He was shaken up badly; he was staring at her in disbelief, trying to shake off what was happening. She seemed so certain, so in control, so darned certain of everything she was doing!!

But she was the vulnerable one. On her face was a sheer veil of steel and glass, and he could see that it was fake.... The frail façade melted his heart yet again and he sat her down. He took her face in his hands tenderly and looked deeply into her eyes, willing her to stay. The pain he inflicted gave him a cruel satisfaction. The remorse of having made it difficult for her took him by surprise and he let her look away. Confused and angry, he sat at her feet and put his head in her lap.

His tears stained her skirt with his bleeding heart. Her fingers strolled through his locks and left hot trails of young passion. She let his burning tears sear her flesh with fragrant memories. And he let her fingers sear his mind with her unsung songs.

They sat there soaking in every emotion, every moment. Unable to speak, unable to leave, unable to do anything but grieve a premature death…. I sat there watching dumbfounded, unable to look away.

What is it with coffee shops and heartbreaks anyway?? There is a story in every cup of coffee. In one cup is a heartbreak and in another a reunion. I wonder how much coffee there is in this world.

From behind the foolish young couple that was letting go of life so easily, walked a familiar frame...a face that looked just a little different…and a smile that was absolutely exactly the same.

We stood there looking at each other and laughing for what seemed like the entire decade and a half that had lapsed between us. The hug assured us both that we would make up for the time we had lost…that nothing much had changed except time. The noises from the traffic and the radio were now lost in the laughter of childhood friends….We sat across the table, neither of us could speak. We just let the silence between us make new music…make our feet dance again…make us the same children once again….

Behind my friend in red and purple lettering was written, 'a lot can happen over coffee'

I love coffee shops!!!