A coffee brown image

That was the fifth day of my lazy stay there. When you called me for a coffee, I really couldn't resist as usual. And in the usual way I started searching for an excuse after some time. A call before an hour or two is my habit. But this time I made it a day before and that has brought me here.

While inside, I saw a table near the wall empty and I sat there facing the wall. Through the window I watched some men removing a burned car. The street hasn't changed. The same dirty image waves in before me.

My neck started paining after watching the unintersting scene for sometime and I twisted my neck upside down.

An old, very old coffee brown painting hanging on the wall. A fainted image of a coffee mug. Its written on the bottom - "Coffee making is an Art!". I was about to smile but I suddenly remembered how I made it last time and kept quiet.

"Oh! you came so early?". That woke me up.

"I was expecting that question any time, with this same expression on your face". That was the right one and made both of us keep our arrows inside.

We talked for a while. Both of us had new things to share. Once we were people having same things to talk, atleast similar. Now we have grown up to a level to talk about unrelated things. Finally when we came to our usual but old talk about dreams, I felt homely.


"I saw a pretty box on the table and it opened automatically. A doll came out and started dancing. After some time I realised that somebody is playing the doll with strings."

"You are the same. You still have that charm of explaining things so beautifully!".
I wanted to tell that but thought of not disturbing.

"It was dancing on a green carpet and suddenly she fell down and died!". I smiled.

"What do you think about it?"
I just blinked.

"See, you haven't changed a bit! And tell me what do you think about it?"
Interrupting both of us, there came a coffee and a black tea with lemon.
The tea bag was rotating inside the glass like the stretched skirt of a dancer. In the brown shadow she danced in her white gown, on her toes. How delicate, how beautiful!

"Hmm when are you coming next time? probably we wil..."

"I am not going back this time...". I really wanted to tell that!