Mellow - Drama!

What is life if it weren’t spiced up with an important ingredient called ‘drama’! Or am I taking Shakespeare’s description of all the world as a stage too seriously?

Last evening I visited one of my favourite coffee shops near my house. The place offered free WiFi earlier and the fact that they also had apple strudel on the menu was an added bonus. Now, the WiFi is no longer on offer, though the apple strudel is!

When I walked in there was just one vacant table in a corner; though a small one, it sufficed for my requirements. So, I perched myself at the table in the corner, sipping my hot chocolate and taking small bites from my apple strudel (so it would last longer) in the company of my Kindle. Things couldn’t have been better until a young lady perched herself in the chair opposite me. Now, it was a tiny table, meant for two people but the table had little space for another cup, a plate of snacks and the mandatory electronic appendages that one can’t do without. I instinctively pulled my plate of apple strudel closer to me giving her a look of disapproval. Busy talking to someone on the phone, she was oblivious to my discomfort at having to share my table with a stranger. My mind was distracted now, and though I did stare on at my Kindle I ended up reading the same line many times over, worried to hell that she might next ask to share my apple strudel, too! The small bites that I was enjoying until then, slowly became larger; and suddenly all the bites stopped, not because I had no strudel left on my plate but because the young lady began sobbing. For a fraction of a minute, a very small fraction, it did cross my mind that I could share my strudel and have her quieten down, much like I may have offered a candy to a crying child. Then the devil in my head screamed “Don’t even think of that, Shobha!”

I was in an awkward situation and didn’t know if I should ignore her or enquire if all was well. Then as she blew her nose into some tissue she held in her hand, I asked her casually, “Everything okay?”

And then it was as if the gates of a dam had been opened – tears, sobs and a story, all came gushing out at once. The devil in my head cursed again, “Was it any of your business, really!”

I heard her story, barely listening, more worried that after the glass of water she had from the table her hand would reach out for the strudel next. Afterall, food can be a great comforter in such situations!

And then a young man walked in, harried, looking around. I wondered if he had come for her and pointed towards him. She seemed happy on seeing him, but like all women, pretended she was really upset. He walked up to ‘our’ table and I turned back to my strudel, hot chocolate and reading, but was extremely curious to know what transpired between them.

She got up and they left. I stared after them, wondering that I neither got to enjoy my strudel nor did I get to know their story! Sigh!

Sometimes in love...