The Bitter Coffee

This corner side cafe occupied a special place in my life. I discovered it when I moved to the city to start my professional career. This was on the way to my workplace. One quick skip and hop to get a coffee once in a while. As time passed, this gradually developed into a routine. Somewhere over the course of the first year in this locality, I developed a personal bond with this café.

She joined my office a year after me. And as someone who was of almost same age as her but had a year or so experience in the group, I was assigned to mentor and on-board her. The frequent interactions initially were professional. And as it invariably happens in a lot of such situations, somewhere the professional barriers got breached and we encroached into each other’s personal spaces. It was during one of our initial interactions in office that I suggested to head out for a coffee at this café and she came along. Slowly, as our relationship blossomed, the café and its corner table became a very usual setting.  We shared out thoughts, aspirations and dreams over countless cups of coffee. We dreamt about a dream wedding, an unforgettable honeymoon and a happy married life sitting under the roof of this coffee shop delightfully savoring lattes and cappuccinos.

Somewhere along, the world of idealism gave way to the pragmatism of real life scenarios. There were wedges between us, the clashes became one too often. And at last, yesterday, the Sunday before Christmas, at the entrance of this very café, this very location that had become a part of us and our relationship, she said goodbye and good luck to me one final time. Around us, as the melodious Christmas carnival drumbeats echoed, she walked away from me and from us, the final time.

Yesterday is over, and I know I won’t get over it anytime soon. I came up to the cashier as usual today morning and ordered a cup, tall and black. This cuppa, this Joe in my hand, is my last from this café. The coffee today tastes particularly bitter, and the reason is not the sugar I failed to add. Too many memories clog my veins, too much nostalgia lingers enclosed within these walls. Goodbye, dear café. Maybe our paths might cross someday in future. I, for one, wouldn’t bet on it though.

Somebody

  

Yesterday it was,

that I sat by this window.

To write something special,

for that somebody who I hoped

would turn to be my somebody special.

I was stumbling,

at a loss were words.

My hands were trembling,

at a loss was a heart.

Yet for all it was

deep inside I knew

That the stumbles and trembles

were all of a bubbling heart.

Of a mind that wanted to scream

my feelings for you.

An ode,

a verse

or a chapter

I didn’t know what to write,

the word unwritten speaketh louder.

Today I find myself,

sitting by the same window sill,

the green fields that they were outside,

stands all parched.

The fury of God it seems

not just landed the curse on me.

It spread everywhere I went.

I still want to write,

though I’m still unsure what to write.

All I know

is that person

did want me no more

as her someone special.

I was stumbling,

at a loss were words.

My hands were trembling,

at a loss was a heart.

Yet for all it was

deep inside I knew

That the stumbles and trembles

were all of a broken heart.

Of a mind that wanted to scream

my hatred for you.

The feeling for you,

masqueraded  as much to the world,

as much to myself.

Not an ode,

not a verse,

nor a chapter,

all that flashed in front of me

Was one word of hate.

The one expression of hatred.

Inside I knew,

I was lying to myself.

But always was I a deceiver.

The letter lies unfinished,

Burned to a pile of ash

In my mind and soul.

Fading Mehendi

Mehendi as it fades,

is a sight no pretty.

Same was with her,

as she brought her face down

and cast her vision on her delicate hands.

Yes the mehendi was there,

but no, the mehendi was not.

Just a month ago,

was the dream wedding.

Adorned in her regal costume,

holding the hands of the man she loved,

as they stepped out,

into the glory of the basking sun.

It was then the war broke out,

those enemies attacked their motherland.

The dutiful soldier he was,

he had to report back for duty.

He hugged her

and told her he had to go back.

Back to the frontier,

back to the forefront.

The parting was tough,

but it was inevitable.

The brave face she put up,

was all a façade,

For she was all tears inside.

And it was the day before,

the news reached,

that he was martyred.

That she was no longer

the wife of a brave soldier.

But instead, there she was

the widow of a martyred warrior.

The sun that shone bright

on the day of their union

that sun had gone,

replaced by the wrath

of the untimely monsoons.

The rains quenched the thirst

of the grounds and grass so parched.

As she waited to receive

what precious little of him was left,

the mehendi adorning her hands

was fading into oblivion.

She stood there,

all alone in a savage world.

Not the wife of a brave soldier,

but the widow of a martyred warrior.

A Toast To Remember

Perched upon a rock so high,

watching down on the seas so sly.

I held in my right hand,

a glass of wine.

The final remnants

of a bottle of bliss

that was my friend for the night.

As I hold the wine in hand,

I’m reminded of what I miss.

The presence of me alone,

all but me, the stars and the sea

that means a world is absent for me,

on this starry night

as I stand

perched upon a rock so high,

watching down on the seas so sly.

Missing someone is precious,

a priceless feel hard to replicate.

He is a world away today,

yet he is so close.

So much close,

that I can feel his touch,

that I can smell his essence.

And coming he is indeed in the morn,

wait for me to join he said,

take me to places he said.

And toast me a memory

that we’ll cherish for life he said.

The tide was rolling in high,

as I flicked my hand to look at my watch,

I realized with a smile

that the time he arrived

was drawing nigh.

The sun will rise tomorrow,

and he’ll be here then.

And then as I promised him my love,

after the sun does set,

we’ll come together at this very vantage.

Perched upon a rock so high,

watching down on the seas so sly,

with a glass of wine in one hand of mine,

his fist of love gripped taut,

in the other.

The glass of wine in hand

was half empty.

Oh wait, allow me to correct,

the glass of wine in hand,

was still half full.

Dialogue

“I wasn’t sure if you would come.”

“I thought a lot about whether to come or not. I couldn’t turn you down, not this time.”

“How are you?”

“Fine. And you?”

“Do you expect me to answer that?”

“You haven’t changed, one wee bit.”

“You certainly have. Have put on a lot of weight.”

“You used to like me being fat, remember?”

*Smiles*

*Smiles*

“So?”

“Nothing.”

“Coffee?”

“No.”

“Weren’t you a coffee addict?”

“I was. And I am. But now, I’d say, is not the best time for a coffee.”

“Okay.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“The last time I got your call, it was bad enough.”

“I’m sorry. Those were different circumstances.”

“How’s life now?”

“Work keeps me busy. At office, and at home.”

“How’re uncle and aunty?”

“Not in the prime of their health. Weak but strong.”

“Hmm. So?”

“Nothing.”

“Always wondered what’d have been the case if you had read that email I sent.”

“I was never good at reading emails. Still not there yet.”

“Okay then. See you.”

*Sighs*

*Sighs*

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“That was not nothing, is it?”

“I have missed your presence in my life. Just wanted to tell you.”

“Famous last words?”

*Smiles*

*Smiles*

“Are you sure you want to leave now?”

*Sighs*

“I think I better…”

“When will I meet you next?”

“It’s a small world. There are a lot of railway stations and bus stations you can bump into me.”

*Laughs*

*Laughs*

“So?”

“Nothing. Don’t feel like saying goodbye.”

“Let’s part without the goodbye. Not like we’re doing it the first time.”

*Half smiles*

*Half smiles*