Recently I was exchanging comments with a fellow blogger about places and what they are like. It made me think about my time at the Cafe.
Yes, it’s THE Cafe! I go there alone, usually to write. Sometimes to think or to read.
The place is old and a little worn out. The sign sometimes tilts a little and the corner light occasionally flickers. I know the music, what song will play next; I know the playlist by-heart. The guy at the counter knows that I like my water cold and my latte plain- no cream, no syrup. The second tile near the counter creaks; I deliberately step on it each time so that I can listen to the sound of it. The tree outside is a beautiful one, with it branches low. Autumn turns its leaves orange and yellow and the wind russtles lightly through it. I have seen it endure some storms too. After around four in the evening, the sun peeks at me through its netted branches. I always look up at it from my spot (Oh, I forgot to tell you about my spot, the second sofa to the right of the door and another one to the left, if ever my spot is occupied).
Most of the days, a man visits the cafe. He sits on the table that is diagonally across me outside the door- always.
He sits down and places his keys plus a pack of cigarettes side by side at the corner of the table- always.
Then looks up at me and waves with a bright smile on his face- ALWAYS.
And always, I wave back 🙂
Somedays he keeps looking at his phone or he reads the newspaper. I don’t know his name still I’d like to call him my friend. Because there have been days when I was thinking and writing about something really sad but then he comes along and smiles at me in such a warm way that my mood lifts a little. He does not know this but he is one of the reasons that make my time at the cafe so peaceful. I’d like to talk to him someday or maybe not.
This place is good for my soul, I fathomed. When I am here I think better, clearer ; It is like my mind palace. When I am not writing anything, I just look out of the window at things, people. The simplest of things like the wasp buzzing outside the pane or the froth in my coffee slowly dying – seem to be interesting. Even though I am alone, I feel at peace with myself and my place in this universe. Looking at the lights passing by, things seem to slow down- like I am sitting there, cozy all by myself and everything passes by in such blinding speed that I can feel my breath; pulse twitching on my wrist. Yes, I exist and I am at peace.
This cafe has given me so many stories, feelings, memories and smiles. I’ve filled diaries here, written some beautiful lines, read wonderful books; I have thought about people, forgiveness, hatered, love, gratitude.
I am so thankful that this cafe exists.
I think everyone deserves a place like this!