By Ashima Bhardwaj
The gentleman with the white mane sat looking at the glass door. He had his arms crossed over his chest and the table in front of him sparkled clean. Fifteen minutes later, a stout woman in her late thirties pushed the glass door to walk in. The smile on the man’s face was worth looking at.
The white head and the jet black curls were an interesting contrast.
A boy wearing yellow shoes (seriously!) threw himself on a sofa, and looked around anxiously. Apparently, he had expected to keep his girlfriend waiting instead of himself.A group of high school kids, all turned their heads to look at the person who walked in next. She looked so fragile, almost as if she was made of porcelain. Her eyes were focused on one person who sat on the sofa, fuming. She knew she was the one who was supposed to have arrived before him. The stout woman signalled towards the waiter for the order. The high school kids had so much to talk about, from their teachers, to the latest automobiles to movies. The boy with the yellow shoes made no effort to smile when the girl sat next to him. There was a bustle of activity behind the service counter for the orders were too many. The TV was loud enough to be heard but not low enough to be ignored. At the same time, the music kept going from the speakers. I often feel that places meant for people to meet, sit and interact should not have TV’s in them. They just take away the charm of having someone all to yourself for a while.
The fragile girl looked at the boy, but he pretended to be engrossed in watching TV. She made no movement, no appeal for attention, but just looked at him. This could not have been about being late.
The gentleman with the white tresses (I’m not even kidding!) got his third cup of latte and smelled it. He, undoubtedly, loved coffee, or perhaps, the smell of it.
The kids had ordered too much to fit on their table. Overeaters, I thought. Spoilt children who had no idea how many children their age die of starvation. All they were concerned about was the latest song of a movie. The boy with the yellow shoes, distraught look and dishevelled hair, was now talking to the girl in whispers. She had come to meet him one last time before she was about to get married to someone else. They hadn’t considered ordering anything at all. Their empty table only reflected their sad faces. Maybe, everyone doesn’t really love coffee. Suddenly the milieu was affected as the stout woman reached out for her ringing cell phone. She talked, hung up, and then the gentleman no longer remained gentle. He yelled at her asking why she hadn’t told him about it. God! He had found out that his wife, with her beautiful curly hair, was dating someone else. One of the kids requested for the music to be stopped.
And then, a miracle happened.
To be Continued...
The white head and the jet black curls were an interesting contrast.
A boy wearing yellow shoes (seriously!) threw himself on a sofa, and looked around anxiously. Apparently, he had expected to keep his girlfriend waiting instead of himself.A group of high school kids, all turned their heads to look at the person who walked in next. She looked so fragile, almost as if she was made of porcelain. Her eyes were focused on one person who sat on the sofa, fuming. She knew she was the one who was supposed to have arrived before him. The stout woman signalled towards the waiter for the order. The high school kids had so much to talk about, from their teachers, to the latest automobiles to movies. The boy with the yellow shoes made no effort to smile when the girl sat next to him. There was a bustle of activity behind the service counter for the orders were too many. The TV was loud enough to be heard but not low enough to be ignored. At the same time, the music kept going from the speakers. I often feel that places meant for people to meet, sit and interact should not have TV’s in them. They just take away the charm of having someone all to yourself for a while.
The fragile girl looked at the boy, but he pretended to be engrossed in watching TV. She made no movement, no appeal for attention, but just looked at him. This could not have been about being late.
The gentleman with the white tresses (I’m not even kidding!) got his third cup of latte and smelled it. He, undoubtedly, loved coffee, or perhaps, the smell of it.
The kids had ordered too much to fit on their table. Overeaters, I thought. Spoilt children who had no idea how many children their age die of starvation. All they were concerned about was the latest song of a movie. The boy with the yellow shoes, distraught look and dishevelled hair, was now talking to the girl in whispers. She had come to meet him one last time before she was about to get married to someone else. They hadn’t considered ordering anything at all. Their empty table only reflected their sad faces. Maybe, everyone doesn’t really love coffee. Suddenly the milieu was affected as the stout woman reached out for her ringing cell phone. She talked, hung up, and then the gentleman no longer remained gentle. He yelled at her asking why she hadn’t told him about it. God! He had found out that his wife, with her beautiful curly hair, was dating someone else. One of the kids requested for the music to be stopped.
And then, a miracle happened.
To be Continued...
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