certain kind of disappointment loomed over people’s visage.
Famished, Osin entered a cafeteria named “Sandwich Park”. It was the café, opulent for coffee, sandwich and burger. The wooden table, art, crafts were the TLC of the café. It has become one of the most influential cafes of the last decade, studied and copied around the country. Its legacy can be seen not just in the stampede of good, cheap burgers, but in the growing recognition that certain fine-dining values, like caring service and premium ingredients, can be profitably applied outside fine dining all the way down the scale to the most debased restaurant genre of all, the fast-food outlet.
When it comes to coffee scaling up usually means bringing in super-automatic espresso machines that grind, dose, tamp and extract coffee with the push of a button. A super-automatic won’t ruin a drink, but it will never make an outstanding cappuccino. At least not until computers learn how to love.
This is why the espresso setup at this place is a surprise. It served varieties of coffee.
There was one girl sitting in one of the wooden chairs and flipping through a novel
She was reading a novel holding the cigarettes gingerly in one hand. She didn’t talk with anyone. She didn't have friends to chat or a boyfriend to date. Osin was staring at her.
She looked completely immersed into the novel.
After some moments, the girl came near Osin.
"Do you have matches?" the girl asked. Osin nodded back silently.
After couple of minutes the girl looked at him again. He was staring at her like he knew her before.
“Do I know you?” she asked with some fierce look.
“N…………o” Osin replied softly and quickly turned his eyes towards other direction.
He looked innocent and puzzled.
After some silence, the girl looked at him from top to bottom and asked again
“By the way, what’s your name?”
“Osss…..in” he replied with weak voice and asked quickly “And ….what is yours?”
“Simrika” she replied, and then paused for a while. There was an awkward silence for some time after which she asked again, “Are you a regular customer here? I’m afraid I haven’t seen you around.”
This time Osin looked strong and confident.
“No, I am absolutely new here. I came from my village. And what about you?” he asked.
"I am guitarist and a writer, I learn and teach guitar as well. We have a band. I write articles and read novels in my leisure period. I love travelling”
The girl again puffed a smoke and put the burning end of cigarette on a tray.
"I am really interested in writing. In my home I used to write poem and some pieces during my free time, it’s really fun writing. One can express his feelings through writing”. He said
“Yes” she said and took her coffee. As the music in cafe got louder, she had to raise her voice, “Why don’t you take coffee? Shall I order one?” she asked cheerfully.
They were having good conversation when her phone rang.
She took a sip and left in a huff saying, "I’m sorry; I got to leave, see you around".
She hurried through the rain. Osin kept watching her till his coffee arrived.
She found the boy really interesting. He was really different from the rest of the guys. Her lost feelings were struggling to grow again. Among the groups he was only the guy, she longed to talk and share.
He decided to spend his night in a hotel near around and come to the same café again.
Next day, she went to the cafe earlier than the guy, environment was little chilly and gloomy, sun was in hide and seek with the clouds. So, she ordered cup of coffee and immersed herself into the novel. Then the guy appeared, came near to Simrika and sat near. She looked and smiled and concentrated on her book.
After sometime, Osin asked, "By the way I again forgot your name, what is it?"
She replied, "I am Simrika and you are Osin, right?”
"Yes" he replied cheerfully. Then they began their conversation. They went on talking for the hours. They sometime talked about the sandwich park and its customer, sometimes about the environment and sometimes about writing.
"I feel really comfortable here; I forget my pain of my life. When I sometime feel lonely, want to talk to someone, I just come here.” She said.
“Well! Don’t you have partner, or you broke with him." she asked with smile and enthusiasm.
"Nope, I don't have and what about you?" he asked.
"No, not at all” she replied.
“Are you here looking for one around the streets who passes by” she asked with smile.
“Every dog running after car doesn’t mean he wants to be its driver, likewise every boy looking after girl doesn’t mean he wants to be their boy friend “he replied with considerable smile on his face.
“Actually I didn't feel such any day, where I was in love. Love can't happen anytime, anywhere and with anybody. To fall in love, minute and second hand of a clock of two hearts must point exactly to the same hour. If that doesn't happen and we go on crying that we are in love, then simply a lust which eventually results in lost, I think guys make partner for to have sex and time pass only.
“I may be wrong also but people I had met up to now had undoubtedly proved my sayings." He continued.
"Yes, you are right but I don't think all guys and girls are same. I think the boys simply pay to girls because he wants to have real satisfaction in life." She stressed.
They paused for a while. Osin looked around the café and its other customers.
After some minutes of silence, she started writing in the notebook.
Looking at her, Osin asked "What are you writing?"
"I am completing my poem. I write articles and poem in my spare time” said Simrika.
"Oh, that’s superb, can you read out that for me, please." he shared he was too much interested in writings.
“Are you sure?” Simrika asked back.
“Yes” Osin spoke out immediately.
Then she turned back the paper, took sip of coffee and began “This is a short somewhat written in short and broken language but one can understand it.
Darkness in light.......
You may wonder what I m talking, darkness in light
But it’s gone be happen, its true n I m right
No matter how bright may be the sun?
One day it will stop n may not be on n on.
U may say there can’t be dark in light
There is, it’s just u can’t see its sight.
Just the crowd see only smile
When pain is darkened for a while.
Success is the light that is seen
Insecurity is the darkness that is in.
Take ur life as a huge dark
And ur death as light n see how u can put a mark.
If u can't c dark in light
U r the fool, that can never might
U may say blind has only dark
He has inner light that makes him walk.
Never be always happy that u got a light
Darkness is there on rest for a while.
I take myself as a huge dark
So that I can see light when I have a talk.
……………………
“Wow! It’s wonderful” he praised her poem.
Then drops of rain started falling. So, she left place early leaving the cup of coffee half empty.
He found the girl wasn't as bore as he had assumed.
Next day also, they met on the same place and started conversation. This time; they discussed about their personal life.
“From where you came to this city?” she asked.
“I came from Budgella village. My mother died after I was born. My father married another wife. My father wanted something from me but I wanted something from life. So I decided to leave my village and I am wandering here and there. So, I came here. So, what about you?” he sai
d.
“There is a long story. I opened my eyes when my mother closed her own forever. Those innocent eyes of mine were thirsty of desert of getting mother’s love. I was lived in this world by my father and elder sister. My father was a rich man but a wino bibber. He had enough time but those hands of his clock didn’t stop for his family. He was like ATM card machine for her daughter. I could withdraw any amount till the validity didn’t end in his expenses for the drinks.
During my childhood, my innocent eyes picked up many big dreams of becoming a doctor or an engineer but all turned out to be fragile and pushed to some uncertain periods when I became a drug addict. In my school days, I was quite jolly, friendly with my pals but when the time passed by, there were drastic changes in my behaviors. I spent half of childhood in hostel confining myself away from the world as far as possible, living up to my own. When I returned home after completing my high school, I still found myself more into darkness in light due to my father’s attitude and behaviors. Every time, my desire quenched for loneliness among the crowd.
My silence talked more than the words. Smokes, drugs, gajas became my daily necessities. I didn’t walk in the road as if I ruled the world, but I used to walk in the world as if I didn’t care whoever ruled the world. I was freakier. People
called me “bindas girl” in their local language, who puffed one, two packets of cigarettes gingerly and needed the daily dose of syringe piercing inside my skin. To meet the thirst of those drugs for my body, I started selling my stuffs when I found no money in my account.
Reading novels, writing poems, articles became my favorite pastimes. I hardly had friends. Some of my close friends got distanced from me when I fell in the trap of drugs. I