Stories Brewed In A Coffee Shop

By Aanya Nigam

Amidst the aromatic swirls of roasted beans and the low hum of chatter, I silently hang on the wall with my polished mahogany case and a meticulously crafted dial. My ornate hands mark the passage of time in this bustling coffee shop. The morning sunlight beams through the large, misty windows, casting golden patches on the mosaic-tiled floor. I stand sentinel. My aged face bears the weight of years as they pass. 

To many, I may seem like an unremarkable fixture, a relic of a bygone era, and perhaps I am nothing special. While the world around me swirls with chaos and constant change, I remain steadfast. My hands have been dancing to the same rhythm for as long as I can remember. I stand in place, and my existence is marked by the mere passage of seconds, minutes, and hours. I did not choose this life of stillness. I long to be worthy and recognized. I long to have a heart. 

But in this coffee shop, where lives converge and part like the tides of a sea, I have become a silent witness to the symphony of human existence. I live vicariously through their experiences, and certainly have learnt a thing or two myself. 

And so, to those who pause to listen, to truly listen – with every tick and every tock, I echo with tales that leave an everlasting mark on your heart.

I saw a writer walk in today, perpetually lost in thought, wrapped in an aura of contemplation. Dressed in a well-worn tweed jacket and sporting tousled hair, he bore the countenance of a scholar steeped in the art of words. He occupied a table at the corner, near the window, and asked the waiter to bring his ‘usual’. He opened his notebook, and took out his sharpened lead pencil. I noticed how, he cancelled more words than he wrote, and how he tore and crumpled more pages than those he filled with words. Perhaps it is human, to always want to be perfect. However, in this relentless pursuit of perfection, humans tend to overlook their own capabilities. Humans must learn to strike a balance between striving for excellence and embracing their imperfections, acknowledging them as an essential part of who they are. They cannot exist boldly if they constantly fear criticism. They need to let go of self-doubting thoughts like, “what if this is not good enough?”, “what will they say?” You see, your art is not about how many people like it. It’s about every part of your heart and soul liking it. It’s about how honest you are with yourself, and you must never trade honesty for relatability. 

Beside him sat a couple, fingers intertwined, their eyes locked in an intimate dance of love. My gentle ticking echoed the steady beat of their hearts as they sipped their lattes and shared their hopes, dreams, and secret smiles. Humans are gifted with the ability to speak, and express their emotions. But from what I have observed, silence is the most beautiful language they possess - the eyes are enough to convey what the heart has to say. All said and all done, what matter the most are the things left unsaid. 

After all, nothing says ‘I love you’ like the words that were never said, but could be heard. 

Families, friends, lovers, and loners, all come and go. Some conversations resonate with the sweet notes of laughter, filling the air with infectious joy as old friends reunite and families share anecdotes over cups of steaming coffee. Laughter becomes the soundtrack of those moments, a harmonious symphony that brings smiles to both patrons and baristas alike. 

Yet, not all tales spun within these walls are bathed in the light of happiness. Some conversations carry the weight of sorrow and heartbreak, their whispers heavy with unspoken pain. Lovers part with tearful goodbyes, their hands holding on to each other’s, hearts heavy with the weight of separation. Friends console one another, and loners find solace in the comforting embrace of solitude, seeking refuge in the quiet corners of the café. 

In this ebb and flow of human emotions, the coffee shop becomes a microcosm of life itself, a place where stories unfold, connections are made, and emotions run deep. 

The last vestiges of daylight fade into the embrace of darkness, and the world below falls into a tranquil hush, as if nature itself is pulling a velvet curtain over the world. The waiter in-charge closes the shop as he switches off all the lights. 

I stare into the darkness.

Perhaps oblivion is inevitable, and all humans are doomed, and there will come a day when the sun will swallow the only Earth we have – but humans make this life worth living by making their brutally short stint on Earth as pleasant as possible. They choose to love and they choose to feel, knowing that nothing is eternal and that one day all shall come to an end. 

Like me, they too did not choose to be brought into this world as they are. The only thing they have control over, is how they shape their lives. And I must say, they shape it beautifully. 

And so, while I may be an object of nostalgia and timekeeping, in this coffee shop I am a timeless observer, a quiet witness to the beautiful tapestry of human existence. My stationary existence has taught me that life is not defined by the places we go or the miles we travel, but by the purpose we find in the little, simple things of life that deserve to be appreciated. It is defined by the moments we create, the people we meet, and the learnings we take. 

By Aanya Nigam