The tale of the coffee with drinking chocolate

It was the first week back at the hostel. She looked down at her calendar and then at her messy apartment. There was so much to do, but such little time. The anxiety was getting to her. She plugged in her earphones and tapped the play button.

“The world is not an ideal place. It is here to scare you to bits. It will gape into your insecurities and tear you apart. All you have to do is find humour in your tragedy and laugh at yourself.

Now think about how to deal with situations that make you uncomfortable. There will be plenty such scenarios. Have you ever thought about all your clever comebacks to whatever happened, many days after it actually happened? That’s a person you don’t want to be…”

The sermon went on. But it didn’t stop her from overthinking. She practised yoga regularly, put her mind into the serenity of Buddhist chants, often went to the guru dwara to find peace, but her quest remained incomplete. She was looking for something to calm her senses. It could be anything.

As she sat there listening to the God man’s words, she thought of her family. A tear poured itself out as she thought about her little niece beginning to walk. Her insides squirmed as she thought about her brother’s theatrical plays and how she missed each one of them. And then she thought about her parents, the invisible umbilical cord pulled at her with a gut-wrenching pain.

She sighed. Blinked away the tears. and went into the kitchen to distract her mind. The glass of cold coffee sat patiently in the refrigerator waiting for her to notice it. She had made it just like her sister would have liked it. Light. Fluffy. And dusted with a layer of silky chocolate. She took a sip and shut her eyes. There it was. It tasted like home. She had found peace.


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