“It is not extravagant to wear Nina Ricci and yet sound humble, but it is gruesome to get buried under the edifices of your own falsely constructed dynamism and flashy egotism”
It was one of those less common evenings in the city, when dust was not mixed with the stink of human sweat. And, I decided to go on a coffee date with my friend. Well, cafes indeed are one of my favourite places to get my pen and words to do some serious work, but not that day. It was after a long that I managed to steal some time to stretch a bit and spend some quality moments without boggling my nerves. Busy looking streets and yet so lazy demeanor of people crossed my way to the cafe ,which was quite a sophisticated place, with well assembled tapestries hanging by its walls and small chandeliers lightning up the hall (and the occupied minds too). The music of 90’s on a subtle note was playing in the background, as if Bruce Springsteen and Elvis Presley had appeared in person to pay themselves a self-tribute. It felt home with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the dusky theme of the place, calm and pristine.
Every face was lit up and everyone was dressed up so fine. But what was even more louder than the sheen of their clothes and fragrance of their scent were their conflicting heads. However, amidst all this (so-called mind reading exercise), I made myself comfortable in one of the cozy Jules Chairs. I was in a good mood to observe and look around. I wondered what would “fun” have been in the times when there were no coffee shops to hang out, with no hams and no sushis. While this mini tussle was going on in my head, I heard the crinkling sound of the door, distinguished from the background music, from the other side of the Café. A man roughly in his late 30’s, well built with a confident walk, all suited up in a black long jacket with aviators covering his eyes (more from the fear of being misread rather than the shield against sun), made his way in. He didn’t mind to put off his Elixyr, which he continuously puffed in, even while talking to the attendant. The smoke mixed with the aroma of the coffee, now felt stinging rather than reviving. This hue covered his face through which could be seen only his brown hair locks with occasional greys. The rapport that he shared with the owner made me think that either he is some big shot or a regular favourite coffee junkie. Later, I learned he was both. I continued back to myself and tried to read something, when suddenly a voice crashed in the room. To my surprise, it was this same man talking to someone on phone in a tone which somehow seemed imported to his personality. “I am struggling more than you think I can”, he hung up the phone with this line, while continuously puffing his Elixyr. Everyone got quiet for a moment after his emotional loud outburst and as he tried to clear the air, his eyes seemed to carry an explanation to defend his elite (made up looks) against the helpless cry of words that just had slipped. It was not that Versace was not on, but its weight was too much for his shoulders to bear. I thought to myself, “Really! Did he just use the word STRUGGLE. How come a man of his aristocracy and elitism be even able to spell the word STRUGGLE”.
I was again in a small conflict with myself. But, then I remembered how even strong winds struggle while rustling through the woods. We are all somewhere connotations of this chivalrous man. We struggle and struggle to achieve all that we aspire. But, the irony is even though we succeed to achieve most of it, our minds keep struggling to collect the pieces of our long lost internal peace.
There is this not so common saying in our profession, “Doctors treat diseases not patients”, implying that we kill the cause not the sufferer. However, all of us (‘all’ meaning each common man) are doing exactly opposite of this in our lives. Although with no intentions whatever they be, yet we are constantly killing our peace to feed the saviors of “more”.
The beds are not rosy for everyone, not everyone has a silver spoon to be fed with, not everyone has a velvet rug bowing and comforting his feet with the first step he lays on ground every morning. Not everyone has a privilege to comfortably sit in a chair with hot mug of coffee brewed and yet make his living. It is a real business out there, cruel and crude. The world is not a fantasy. Its for real, reality with so many wars, wars amongst and wars within. And as Law of entropy states, “The total entropy (universal tendency towards disorder, chaos, disorganisation, and disintegration) will increase over time, approaching a maximum value”. So, you got no reasons to blame universe for its conspiracies against you, as it is itself in an ongoing strife to find solace. There is a need to understand something basic here, that peace and happiness have been in the same box ever since the dawn of human race and this box doesn’t fit, if one is left out. Try to fill the box with only these two. Overburdening it and leaving the real tenant out will only make the things worse.
People did laugh, even when there were no e-memes, they did feel worthy and special even without “likes” and “comments” cursor toggling on their names, people did feel expression of love and friendship even when emoticans were nowhere around, they could manage to initiate conversation be in it, live it, even when the ‘chat rooms’ were a far off concept. People did tap their feet and hum the lines even with their own melodies. And of course, coming back to my “coffee Question”, Yes! They did enjoy it (even in the 15th century).
The conflicts within ourselves will never end. They are like hallucinations. You need to control them before you lose your show. Life is worth of living not wasting in adoration of whims.
Writer's Den 