Life is Vanilla

Lacking a bit of inspiration, I headed to the Daily post today. Looking for a prompt or maybe a photo challenge.  The Weekly photo challenge  said – Pedestrian.

I am not much of a photographer but I like taking pictures. So I’ll give this post an appropriate image for the sake of it but what really popped into my head upon reading the word was my own blog- Vanilla with Sprinkles.

Vanilla is regular, ordinary….kind of Pedestrian.

The title holds a deep significance for me and  I’m really attached to it. As a little girl, when I started writing I told myself that my first book will be one named ‘Vanilla with Sprinkles’ and I was so proud for coming up with this name. Unfortunately I haven’t written any books yet. In the process of searching for a name for my blog, I hopped from one idea to another and nothing quite made sense to me. Anyway, I put up a random name and started writing. Each time I looked at my blog I wanted to call it something else. Then one fine day, reading through my old diary I stumbled upon the desires of my past and there it was – VANILLA WITH SPRINKLES! Along with a rough plot starting for my so-called book. I read through the 4 page plot and smiled at myself, to be true…it was pretty lame. Then, I stared at the title, neatly written in bold with a colored pen and I knew right then what I had to do.

My blog, is my very first writing venture. This is something that has always kept my hopes of becoming a writer alive. I may not have attempted a book yet but I always find the time to keep my blog alive and that means a lot to me. I go back and read my old posts sometimes and it makes me realize how my writing has changed and grown along with me. I am way more honest and carefree today than I was back then. Being honest with my writings has brought me so much of peace and it renders essence to what I put down.

Getting back to vanilla, I love the phrase cause it is honest and raw…that is what life is; Life is Vanilla with a shower of different sprinkles;

A smile, a tight hug, a happy tear, a glimpse of hopeful sadness…

A good book, the fragrance of freshly brewed coffee, an afternoon nap…

The crunch of leaves beneath your foot, an old song, crackling of fire wood and crashing of sea waves…

Plain old vanilla is just fine…and then you have such a wide variety of sprinkles to add that finishing touch 🙂

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My time at the cafe

Do you have a Happy Place?

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!