”Sleep is the symptom of caffeine deprivation”! Although I am an ardent devotee of a steaming cup of tea, it is difficult to ignore the sensual lure of a fragrant, aromatic cup of coffee either. At times, I almost feel guilty of sharing my affections between them. Afterall, they are both caffeine at the end of the day, aren’t they?
A few centuries ago, both petroleum and coffee had no value at all. Isn’t it shameful, how one causes war and bitterness between nations and how the other, pompously has cafes made exclusively to pay homage at her altar?
The western hemisphere first showed me the willing enslavement to this bitter, dark fluid. The morning begins with the heavenly whiffs of dependency floating up the stairs into happy nostrils still under covers. The willing slave creeps down the stairs and fills a cup of the inviting, black beauty. To my great awe, it goes down without sugar or milk. How ‘small town’ and old fashioned am I.
The defenceless vulnerability of a coffee deprived human is visible in the huge, disposable, Styrofoam, cups that each individual is seen carting around like a zombie, wherever he goes.
The price of gourmet, branded, coffee is astronomical to the extent of being ludicrous! Granted, it smells like freshly ground heaven and qualifies for the quaint epithet of ”deja brew”, but does it have to orchestrate people’s mornings to it’s tune? ”je mundeya meri tore vekhni, gadwa lai de chaandi da, lakk hille majaajan jaandi da ”
The pure flavour of coffee is now, glamourised and corrupted with so many different flavours, your poison could be caramel, hers could be hazelnut, and he could ask for cinnamon or chocolate, the list is shamelessly long.
T S Eliot had measured out his life in ”coffee spoons” while most others feel, that this hug in a mug, restores the buzz.’ ‘Black as the devil, hot as hell; pure as an angel, sweet as love.’
One doting gent went so far as to say that if he were a woman, he would wear coffee as a perfume . A bit much, if you ask me.
The assurance, brimming forth, from a decent cup of coffee is palpable. Though the calm pervading a lounge style, coffee- cafe is heartening, give me the hustle bustle of an Indian Coffee House anytime with the unbeatable aroma of freshly ground coffee beans befuddling the senses, right from the moment, they hit the filter.
One shot of the brew and you can talk nineteen to the dozen on politics and religion with a maniacal glint in your eyes.
No crooning of moony ghazals like ”tum aaye ho na shab e intezaar guzri hai, talaash mein hai seher, baar baar guzri hai.”
Lily Swarn’s Book ” A Bejewelled Tiara” on Love And Peace recently published by Authors Press is now available on Amazon
