bitter coffee

I sat sipping coffee and flipping through the pages of an old newspaper, heavy with the weight of depressing news and the wetness of the moisture laden Bombay air. It was one of those privileged tables set near the window, in a private corner. The world was open to you but yet you could crouch back and put off the momentous decision of facing it. I had chosen to face the window looking towards the sea from the upper floor of the quaint little cafe. It also gave me a chance to turn my back towards the world. The sea wasn't calm. It was swelling, grey and dark, like sorrow in a turgid heart. Like thoughts in an agitated mind. Or forbidden desires in a soul going to waste. My heart, my mind and once, my soul too. The sky was overcast with black clouds ready to burst. The faint flicker of distant lightning lit up the sky every once in a while. The dust seemed to have settled down on the road below and the world seemed to be moving at an uneasy, sluggish pace. It seemed as if the anticipation of rain had drugged the entire world into a lazy, hazy stupor. Unconsciously heartbeats had slowed down, feet were being dragged, eyelids had become heavy and ears awaited the sudden rumble of thunder. Rain. Like an awaited lover, like a comforting blanket at the end of a hard day, like Christmas, like happiness.

As I set my coffee cup down, the delicate clink of china was greeted by the boisterous uproar of the thundering skies. Like a single note played on stage can cause the crowd to erupt in tumultuous waves. I smiled as fat, hot drops of rain rushed down to meet the yearning, arching earth. Sins were being washed away, life was being nurtured and childhood seemed to burst forth from every heart. Even i started feeling lighter, like the weight of a lonely evening was being lifted from my shoulders. As if the raindrops were tears shed freely.

The rain grew fiercer and soon my table was drenched. I stood and turned to move to another table. And in that one moment my mind seemed to go in to a state of complete turmoil. Had time gone back a few paces? Or had it stopped completely? Why on this particular afternoon was this man sitting in this off-beat cafe in Bombay and looking at me across the room? Shouldn't he be in another city, another country, another world, another universe? Hadn't that been another life? Hadn't i been dead for a while?

He smiled. It was a polite, gentle smile tinged with a sadness that would never go away in entirety. A sadness Probably I could be held responsible for. I forced myself to smile back. I forced myself to keep standing on my own two feet. I forced myself to be in the same room and in the same world as him. He pulled out a chair. I took reluctant steps towards the table and sat down.

"So how have you been?", he asked. "You used to always complain that I never asked." Lonely, overworked, not the way i thought I'd be. "Fine" I replied. He smiled his smile and it hurt more than any amount of anger he could have poured forth. May be he knew it had that power. He called the waiter and ordered a chocolate-something-coffee. I noticed his hand as he ran his finger down the menu. "Would you like something?" he asked. I pointed at something in the menu and the waiter nodded. "Did you at least see what you have ordered?" "You are married." Not a question. Just something I needed to say out loud to understand the significance of the words. "Yes. I got married a few years back. I had sent a card to your address in Bombay. I didn't really expect you to come but it was surprising that you didn't even reply. I mean you did want to continue being friends so I thought you might. Didn't you get the card?" "Actually, no" I replied. Words straining past my slowly closing throat. "I changed my house. And most of my friends." I laughed awkwardly. "I never thought you'd write to me. Wow. So this news for me. I'm happy for you."

We sat like that. Sad and stunned. Looking back at the past through separate windows. Our long years together. My foolish mistake, his incredible tolerance. My wrong decision, his unbearable sorrow. My arrogant defiance, his gentle compliance. Our parting. My death and his too.

The waiter reappeared and set our cups on the table. He gulped down his coffee. I could never really gulp down hot drinks but I decided to give it a try. I wanted to make my escape. One small sip of it made it clear that it was the most bitter thing I had ever tasted. I set my cup down and made a face. He laughed "I told you to see what you are getting into. Now look, its too bitter." "Yeah", I agreed "It was a mistake to order it. A total mistake." He called the waiter and asked for the check. I reached for my bag but he said "Let me take care of it." He paid the check, gave me one last smile, shook my hand and left. I sat there with my bitter coffee and smiled a bitter smile. It had always been like this. He always paid for my mistakes.