Over coffee..



It was one wintry morning  , like a polka dot sweater – grayish with snow flakes everywhere on it.

I ducked inside my favorite coffee joint to order white chocolate mocha ; that is something I relish in winter , without worrying about pounds , inches or calories , thanks to multi-layered winter ensemble.

He was at the corner , talking to three ladies, while sipping his regular latte. I noticed him everyday . You know , some people have that unostentatious elegance ; no one can ignore their presence , even inside a crowded coffee shop.

From the corner of my eye , I continued to study the room , it was okay to be an observant . After some time ,I realized I did not have enough skill to judge people from their appearance , even though it might be the easiest way to kill time. Everyone had someone to talk there , everyone had a story. I flipped through a Nat Geo magazine while listening to the people talk , noting that their conversation sounded much more interesting in their different accents. The theme of their chat was travel and food ,mostly; but there were marital woes , issue with child raising too. I closed my magazine and made an eye contact with the  friendly cafe girl  , asking without words – How long would it take?

She smiled while placing the tall glass on the counter and giving me the change , then suddenly looked at the gentleman at the corner , disclosing ,”Do you know she photographs and writes too?”

All of a sudden , I felt that the world was silent and the sunlight was on me , only on me. I heard it happens to the people who want to stay invisible forever and suddenly get exposed.

“What do you write ? ” ,he asked with a smile .

“Um! Mainly blogs. ” , I revealed.

I could judge him by his radiance and confidence . I estimated that he was somewhere between 80 and 90. And maybe he was a sailor who touched all oceans, or a scuba diver who observed the magic deep inside the earth , or maybe a nomad photographer who spent half of his life by the amazon ( not the dot com world) rain-forest. Whatever it was , I was adamant to believe he was more normal than anyone in the cafe.

“What is a blog?”

I kept telling him about a virtual world on the web with thoughts , opinions , views , memoirs of people ,without the help of any publishing house ; a place where wanderer souls put their favorite photographs and travel stories ; I described how blogging evolved ; how readers and reading progressed. As I kept explaining to him , his eyes shrunk and got lost into bigger thoughts .

Within a minute , I felt , maybe, blogging was too esoteric to understand.

So , I looked at my watch and ended the conversation, saying, ” I just go to places , observe people , take photographs and put them along with some stories on the internet. “

“Is it something like pin-interesting ? I love that new thing .It’s short and sweet , without big words. I pin my life there. ” , he had his pleased smile back .

I nodded and left.

I never felt so ancient till then.

Author: Archita

Musings about life and photography.

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