It is January 9th today. This reminds me of the same date last year when I was sitting with her in a coffeehouse, almost the same time and same date. Then I used to live alone in that city, far from my home. I often slept late on those days and got up late. I don’t know how many months have passed since a lazy person like me has seen the rising sun. Now I remember those days.
Today I am sitting with a mug of coffee in my hand, feeling as if centuries have passed, sitting so leisurely, in front of my laptop, updating my bio-data on various job websites. Now I can remember some old childish things.
Now I often laugh at myself and sometimes my eyes get moist when I remember those good old days. Even today, I remember the days we used to sit in that coffee house for hours talking to each other. Yes, there was a girl of my dreams that used to buy small gifts for me from a nearby store.
I remember I used to write poems for her. I remember how she used to get lost in those confusing, silly words of my poems because what I wrote wasn’t poetry, but expressions of the love of a simple man who loved her and expressed his inner sentiments.
For a long time, we kept looking into each other's eyes. Then she would read those silly poems and then leave, saying "you write well," and I used to hold a mug of coffee in my hand and stare at her back and her walking movements.
I remember the last time she had a mug of coffee in her hands in that bitter cold on the 9th of January. Her soft fingers were touching my hands, and she had dreams in her eyes. This black pepper and ginger coffee reminds me of how I have become a coffee addict.
I used to imagine she was with me, a cup of coffee in my hands during office hours in the mornings or in the evenings. Even a cup of coffee still brings her memory back to my mind while sitting in front of the window of my house looking at the coffeehouse across the road in front of my house.
I have a friend who often says that too much coffee is not good for you. Last night, I had a beautiful dream. Or was that a strange thought that came into my mind? I was sitting in a café drinking light black, bitter coffee as usual, and it was cold. In my dream, I was sitting next to her with her soft fingers in my hand. My eyes were secretly watching her. She was a little scared but was sipping her coffee slowly. Perhaps she knew I was on the retrenchment list and will leave the city soon.
In the morning, a ray of sun from the window opened my eyes. So what happened next? I never knew. Now it is Sunday, January the 9th. This is a holiday, a Sunday, but what difference does it make for me? There is no festival or bank anymore, and there is no need to rise early, so what option do I have but to sleep again and go back into the memories of what happened last year on the same day of the same month?
Should I leave my laptop and go for yet another cup of coffee? But then I remember my friend who often used to say that coffee was not good for me.