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| Iced cortado and chocolate chip cookies with Kashmiri walnuts at Subko, Colaba |
Caveat: The post is a work of fiction and stitches together many memories from across decades.
I looked down from the window this morning and saw a young couple walk down the road.
The boy had a backpack. The girl didn’t.
Both were dressed in tee shirts and jeans.
The girl’s jeans looking rather distressed.
The boy’s tee shirt looking like an oversized hand me down from his elder brother.
The one who lifts weights every morning and is rather buffed up.
They were possibly bunking college.
Or done with their day,
They spoke cheerfully with each other as they ambled up and down our lane.
Bright smiles adorned both their faces.
I sat down at my desk.
It was Monday morning. Time to start a new week.
I opened my laptop but my mind wandered.
What were the two talking about, I wondered.
Was it about the class they skipped and the friend who would give them notes?
Was it about the noon show that they planned to catch?
Reviews be damned. Let alone about knowing which movie was playing.
The theatre was close by. Had comfortable seats.
Filled with others like them.
Who else would have the time to catch a movie on a Monday afternoon?
Were they discussing their plans for post-grads and the country they planned to go to for this?
Or ‘countries’?
But would they be smiling if one uttered the words ‘long distance relationship’ to the other?
They could be sharing notes from the Netflix comedy special that they saw last night.
Or from the beer fest they went to on Saturday night.
The one in which his best friend had got so sloshed that he ate non-veg on his veg day!
Or her activist friend who was upset about the flyover coming up by the sea?
Was the smile at the thought of the sweet kitties and their mom that they had just passed by?
The ones they stopped to feed kibble every afternoon on their way home.
Perhaps the laughter was aimed at a building uncle? Or a family aunt?
The ones who spammed whatsapp groups. Or sent good morning messages before daybreak.
Perhaps at the thought of how uncool their parents were?
A universal belief of youth.
Till they become parents themselves. And uncool.
Were they smiling at the thought of the future they saw for themselves?
The one they looked at through rose tinted glasses.
The apartment by the sea. The kitchen in which they would cook together.
The lab who would come running to them the moment they walked in.
The holidays they would take together.
One of which would be their honeymoon. At Maldives.
Or at the matchmaking their respective parents had started for them?
Who gets married in the age of living in? That’s so KJo and regressive!
Perhaps they were talking about whether to go to the tiny conti joint for seafood marinara with penne.
Or to the bar that tourists love. The one where the two share beef chilli, prawn fried rice and a micro-mini brownie.
The laughter stopped. Faces became grim.
The conversation became animated. Far from chirpy.
Accusations were made. And countered.
They huffed and puffed and walked into the new age coffee bar they loved.
He ordered an iced cortado. Her, a cappuccino in a takeaway cup.
‘To have here. And make it extra hot.’
Should we share a chocolate chip cookie, he asked.
The one with Kashmiri walnuts, she asked in response.
The order was placed. The smiles were back.
An empty bench spotted. The resident cat lying supine below.
Only to get up and rush to give kitty kisses to him as they approached the bench.
Carrying the two coffees. And they cookie that brokered peace,
They sat down beside each other. The cat jumped on to her lap.
They asked for the wifi password. And got lost in their respective phones.
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| Baby Loaf wasn’t very impressed with Daddy Loaf’s attempt to second guess Modern Love. |
