If we were having coffee together

If we were having coffee…I would tell you about my new found fascination for leaves. I would tell you how I find the rain drop dripping leaves beautiful. I look at their perfect blades and their rounded curves whenever I step out and try to take lovely photographs. They might have come out as the second best choice when I could not find any flowers to click in this new place, but now they are an obsession.

If we were having coffee…you are bound to ask me how I am managing in a new city. And then I would pass you the biscuits that I made from scratch while trying out my new oven and tell you how I am loving every moment of being in a new place and soaking in all the newness.

You would comment on the chilli flakes in the biscuits and might even say that you like your biscuits sweet. I would then have to convince you that this was the only and the easiest recipe that I could try out.

If we were having coffee…I would tell you how I am fascinated by a new language. I would put on a fake accent and punctuate my conversation with the words I have learnt. You might point out that I need to know complete sentences and not just throw about random words. This would make me laugh and I would shrug nonchalantly. We would then talk about how we are attracted to foreign languages.

If we were having coffee…I would tell you all about the little lake that I am fortunate enough to live near. I would tell you how it is nearly the first thing I look at when I am up in the morning. I would talk of its varying colours that reflect the sky’s myriad moods. I would talk of the flickering evening light and how it seems to skim on the water surface. I would tell you how the water is framed by palm fronds that sway with the breeze.

If we were having coffee…I would tell you of the new perspectives that are shaping my thinking. I would tell you how exciting it is to meet new people who challenge my views of the way things should be. I would tell you that I am grateful to see another viewpoint and a glimpse of other inner worlds.

If we were having coffee…I would tell you how I feel dizzy at the endless possibilities and opportunities that I seem to find everywhere. I would tell you that it is as if the rain has washed away all the dust of uncertainty and everything is fresh. I would then hold forth about the thundering rain and the howling wind and the slants of water hitting the earth every day.

If we were having coffee…I would tell you of the different coffee brews that I am sampling these days. I would tell you of the wonderous brew that the beverage chef of the hotel would prepare, smiling his pleasure at my appreciation. I would tell you of the different brands that I encounter in the supermarket. I would tell you of the coffee I had in the train and the coffee I had at the roadside vendor. 

If we were having coffee…I would tell you how sharing coffee or a meal makes me want to talk more. I would tell you that I am transported to coffee shops where I have shared so many talks with friends and strangers. I feel so much at ease that I want to expound on my philosophy of life. Your horrified look would stop me from the expostulation, of course.

If we were having coffee…I would tell you of how I am spinning yarns and weaving tales in my mind. The stories threaten to spill out. I would tell you how different characters seem to come up to me at every place. I would tell you how I feel like stopping people on their way and asking them about their thoughts on life and their daily routine.

If we were having coffee…I would tell you how much I love our talks together.

Over a Cup of Coffee

If we were having coffee right now… you would be frowning down at the strong, milk less, bitter beverage, unable to drink it but not wanting to interrupt me.

If we were having coffee right now… you would try not to look around the room for the place would be littered with boxes in various stages of being packed. I would wax eloquent about the joys of packing things, sorting them into categories, grouping them and putting them carefully, having put bubble wrap around them and the satisfaction of labeling the boxes. I would tell you a tad hesitantly about the way I keep my thoughts nearly categorised and labeled too, to pull them out when I need them. I would go on to tell you how I have struggled to unbind my thoughts and put them chaotically on the shelves of my mind.

If we were having coffee right now… which by now you would be swirling around impatiently, trying to wish it away, I would tell you about my partner in crime and our various escapades. You would look into the dark liquid in the cup and I would catch you doing that. I would tell you who gifted that oversized cup to me and when and how much it means to me.

If we were having coffee right now… I would tell you about my longing to visit this very beautiful garden with a regal building and an imposing staircase. I would take out a rudimentary guide map torn from a book and trace the route I want to take with my finger. I would pause at the important places and bends in the way, almost as if I were there already, looking dreamy as I contemplate the first view I would have of the place.

If we were having coffee right now… I would look pleased for I would be sure of your attention now. I would take this time to ask you of your work and music. I would ask you if you had saved all the music you had pledged to, the mellifluous strains of which I would listen to looking out contentedly at the lake and the overgrown weeds around it.

If we were having coffee right now… I would point to my work table littered with thick ivory sheets and crayons and scissors. I would show you my half finished attempts at creating props for storytelling. I would talk of my doubts and hesitation in going ahead with tell-a-story to underprivileged children, for I was afraid of not being able to connect or make a difference.

If we were having coffee right now… I would tell you about the pigeons on the tin roof and the racket they make in the mornings. I would ask you if you would like to scatter bird feed to them, which you would say yes to with a wondering look.

If we were having coffee right now… you would tell me triumphantly that you would have to leave the dredges of the brew because it got cold while you were listening to me. I would offer you another cup, though.

No Coffee=Groggy

Coffee drinkers, unite!

Unfortunately, I cannot heed that call for I have given up drinking coffee. A hard core drinker (of coffee, what else?), I embarked on this journey eight years ago when I had my first child. All through pregnancy and breastfeeding, I was exhorted to drink milk. I could not tolerate much of the white stuff so I mixed it up with a little bit of the brown powder (the instant variety). I still drink coffee that way. All milk. The purists would snort at me but once an addict, always an addict.

I read an interesting post from an eminent blogger a couple of months back. He is eminent because he speaks of lofty ideals, dedication to community service, higher goals and subjects worthy of an encyclopedia. Sandwiched between all this, I found his reminiscences when he ran out of coffee filters. The agony! He ended up using the paper napkins.

Am I similarly distraught? Yes, for I realised I had run out of coffee and it was not possible to get more of the stuff as it was snowing. For a few minutes, I lost myself in the soft flakes drifting down gently. I watched as they settled on the leaves, the railings, my clothesline. The white stuff was exhilarating. Forgiving it for disrupting my daily routine, I brewed myself some tulsi ginger tea.

This tea is healthy. Full of antioxidants. Combines the goodness of the herb tulsi and the ginger root. It is expensive (hence, not meant for philistines). It warms my insides. It looks like mud mixed in water and tastes like grass (a bovine likes it very much, so this is what I surmised).

It snowed the entire day. The car is surrounded by snow. The streets are full of the icy stuff. The phone does not work to call the home delivery guy. After the fourth cup of the abomination tea, I decide to make a virtue out of a necessity. I have given up drinking the numerous cups of coffee. For some days, at least. How many? Oh! I am too grumpy to decide.


Is that coffee or tulsi ginger tea?