by Savi Sharma
‘It’s okay,’ Vivaan said as he quickly looked out the window, trying to focus on anything out there.
I was positive he missed her. I knew if I’d lost my mother at such an early age as he had, I would feel that a piece of me had been carved out, never to be replaced. Although he was still a stranger, a part of me wanted to hug him and comfort him.
I cleared my throat to bring his attention back to our table. ‘Please go on and tell me more about yourself.’
He smiled. ‘I completed my master’s in finance and joined the banking sector. After a few years of hard work and a lot of struggling, I became the youngest assistant branch manager in our company,’ he said proudly. ‘I am probably going to be one of the youngest chief branch managers that the bank has within the next couple years.’
‘Impressive,’ I said truthfully. The man before me was certainly determined.
‘That is all about me.’
I knew there was more that he held deeper and closer to his heart, and I wanted so badly to uncover his secrets.
I crossed my arms in a challenging position. ‘That is the entire story you have about yourself?’ I asked in disbelief, and I raised my eyebrows at him.
‘Yes, that’s my story.’
‘Are you kidding me right now?’ I asked.
‘No, I told you my story wasn’t that interesting,’ Vivaan replied.
‘I am not buying it for a minute! You have more to your story, and you are just hiding it! Tell me about your girlfriend,’ I demanded, pushing further.
‘Girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend,’ Vivaan said as he shook his head.
Wait. I wondered quickly if I had read him wrong. ‘Then do you have a boyfriend?’ I asked, suddenly puzzled.
‘No! Shut up!’ He laughed heartily. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend!’
‘Vivaan,’ I allowed my frustration to colour my voice. ‘You drag me down here and you refuse to tell me anything!’ I pointed out.
He sighed. ‘Meera, I do not have a girlfriend. And, most definitely, not a boyfriend. I am single!’
I smiled my thanks as a waitress brought me my cappuccino before I turned back to Vivaan. ‘Okay, what about your past? Did you have someone that you called your own?’
He sighed. ‘I did have my fair share of flings, but there was nothing very serious. I am telling you the truth, Meera!’
I looked at him, confused. There must be more to him than this.
‘I am disappointed.’ I drew the words out the way my teachers used to when they chastised someone for not turning in a good paper.
‘Why?’ He frowned and began to tap his fingers against his coffee cup.
I explained patiently, ‘I thought you would have some great love story to tell, something fascinating I could write about.’
‘Meera, there are stories everywhere if you look.’ I could hear the regret in his voice as he reached out, gently prying my fingers off my cup. He wrapped his hand around mine, squeezing gently, and I felt my pulse crackle at the friendly gesture.
‘I don’t find stories everywhere. The only time I found the one I wanted to explore, it was in your eyes,’ I whispered.
Vivaan was silent. He signalled Kabir to bring another coffee.
When Kabir came up with a second round of coffee, Vivaan said, ‘Maybe you should try to look somewhere else.’
‘Where?’
‘In Kabir’s eyes.’
Kabir and I exchanged glances, and we both seemed equally shocked by Vivaan’s statement. My second cappuccino sloshed in the cup as he put it on the table.
‘What?’ Kabir and I asked at the same time.
Vivaan laughed at our confusion. ‘Didn’t you ever notice how Kabir smiles when he looks at all the people who come in here? He doesn’t care if they are young or old; he flashes a smile at them anyway.’ I looked at Kabir, suddenly seeing my friend in a different way. ‘The way he makes them feel here is like they are home, and we are all family.’
‘That is something I try to do, yes,’ Kabir said happily.
‘He also makes the best coffee for his customers. I am sure he has been in love and that he has a story to tell,’ Vivaan finished with excitement.
I sat there shocked at how he could pick up on every little detail a person had about them.
Slowly, I started to speak. ‘I have to admit I have known Kabir a lot longer than I have known you. I know he is a lovely and courteous man and he serves his customers very well. But Kabir’s love story never crossed my mind. Tell me, Kabir. Is Vivaan right?’
‘Hmm…’ Kabir stood there silently. His face coloured as he considered his words.
Vivaan reached over and pulled out a chair. ‘Can you sit for a minute? I know it’s busy in here,’ he said.
Kabir’s eyes looked over the place and then he nodded and perched on the edge of the chair.
‘Tell us about yourself, Mr. Lover.’
7
Cold Coffee
‘Yes, I have been in love.’ When Kabir began to speak, it was in such a sad voice I would not have recognized him if I wasn’t looking at his face.
I was as surprised by his tone as by his admission. ‘Who is she? What is her name? Where is she?’ I couldn’t stop myself questioning him.
‘Her name is Nisha. She used to visit this café long before either of you two came here.’
‘What happened? Why does she not come to this café any longer?’ I asked.
Vivaan was silent, listening to Kabir through both his body language and his voice. I wasn’t that disciplined; I was demanding, thirsty for the information. I wanted to know the story, and—as I got excited about it—itched to know the details. Kabir’s story wasn’t the love story I’d pictured him having, at least not in terms of causing the pain I could hear in his voice when he spoke of it.
‘Meera, calm down! Let Kabir speak,’ Vivaan said softly, flashing me a smile.
I nodded. ‘Sorry Kabir,’ I said in a quieter tone. ‘I want to know everything about you and Nisha. Please go on.’
Kabir took a deep breath and looked down at his hands as he let out a sigh.
‘I was brought up in a lower middle class family along with my younger sister. My father was a teacher in a government school, but he had to retire after he suffered a heart attack.’
‘Oh,’ I said quietly, but did not interrupt.
‘Our savings went into his treatment. It was pretty hard for my family. My mother and younger sister both tried to do the household chores, feeding our family while managing his medical expenses. I decided to give up my college education and search for a job. My mother argued at first that she didn’t want me to drop out of college, but I told her we didn’t have much of a choice.’
He broke off, and Vivaan muttered, ‘No, I can’t imagine that you did.’
Kabir shook his head and continued. ‘I immediately began looking for work, and fate brought me here. They needed a new person on their staff who spoke English well and, luckily, I was interviewed. It was by God’s grace that I got this job.’ He smiled happily. ‘I became the manager in three years. Things have been good for my family since then, and every single day I thank God for the job He gave me.’
I had never known Kabir had it so rough. He was so friendly on the outside that I never guessed he held such sorrow in his heart. I wanted to scream ‘Kabir, stop it!’ because my eyes were already filled with tears. I deliberately bit my lip to keep from speaking.
‘It was also because of your dedication and hard work,’ Vivaan said.
‘I never knew you went through such tough times. You never shared this with me. You are always so happy and smiling,’ I pointed out.
Kabir sighed and shrugged his shoulders. ‘You never asked me, Meera,’ he said.
‘What does this have to do with Nisha?’ Vivaan asked, bringing t
he conversation back to Kabir’s love.
Kabir’s expression was distant as he began to recall the rest of the story.
~
After a few months of working here, I saw a beautiful young girl crying in the corner of the café. It made me quite sad that such a pretty girl was crying instead of smiling. I prepared a nice cold coffee with ice cream for her and placed it on her table. She looked up, stunned, and she wiped her tears. She said, ‘I didn’t order anything.’
I smiled and nodded. ‘I know, but I thought maybe this will make you feel better.’
I could tell she was trying hard to smile as she thanked me. She came many more times after that. She was always alone, upset and distraught. Every day, I would do my best to try to make her feel better with different types of coffee, even though she didn’t order anything. I never charged her. At the end of each day, her bill was deducted from my salary. It was then I realized that love makes you do crazy things.
One day, I finally gathered some courage to ask her about her sorrow. ‘If I may ask, what happened?’
She looked shocked at my intrusion. ‘None of your business,’ she replied shortly. She stood up so quickly, she almost knocked the chair over. Then, she walked away. She stopped coming to the café after that.
~
‘How come she was so rude? How could she just walk away?’ Vivaan was annoyed.
‘Look who is talking,’ I responded, looking pointedly at him. He instantly realized what I meant.
‘Did she come back again?’ I asked.
‘Yes, she did. My cold coffee brought her back,’ Kabir smiled.
8
Kafe Kabir
Kabir’s eyes glistened as if recalling a bittersweet time of his life. I pushed a glass of water that the waitress had left on the table towards him. He took a sip, and seemed to be collecting his thoughts before he continued narrating his story.
~
‘May I have a cold coffee with ice cream?’ a sweet voice said while I was busy making entries in the café register.
When I looked up, it was the girl for whom I had been waiting that past one month. There were no tears that day. She was wearing the most beautiful coral dress. She looked amazing.
‘Yes. Sure, madam,’ I stammered nervously.
‘Nisha,’ she smiled.
‘Kabir,’ I smiled back.
I prepared her coffee while she walked over to an unoccupied table. She sat in her chair and kept looking at me. It was as if she had this hypnotizing spell she was holding over me—I couldn’t understand why she was making me so nervous after a whole month.
‘Thank you,’ she said as I placed the coffee on her table.
‘You are most welcome,’ I said.
She took a dainty taste and smiled. Satisfied that she was content, I began to walk away when I heard her voice. ‘I am sorry,’ she said innocently.
I turned back to face her. ‘Why?’ I asked.
‘For that day,’ she said, gesturing for me to sit near her. There were only a handful of people in the café, so I could sit without feeling like I was abandoning my other customers.
I sat down and then shook my head, dismissing her apology. ‘I should be thankful to you for all those days,’ I said.
She put her hands on the table and leaned towards me. ‘I need to explain,’ she insisted. ‘My boyfriend broke up with me and I was very depressed those days. I want to thank you for those coffees. They really made me feel better.’
‘Thank you,’ I said softly, though I felt something breaking inside me. ‘I’m glad I could help in my small way.’
‘You did,’ she responded. ‘More than you know.’
‘Why did he break up with you?’ I asked. It might have been rude to ask such a personal question, but I was puzzled that anyone would want to break up with her. She was beautiful beyond words or description. She had the face of an angel, and her hair seemed to frame it like a halo. Her eyes were large and I felt like she could search through my soul. Her lips were perfect in every way, as if she was a porcelain doll.
Nisha continued. ‘We studied in the same college and became friends very quickly. He proposed to me within six months. I accepted. He loved me very much, I knew. He bought me a lot of gifts, and he seemed to care so much. We took our relationship to the next level after some time. We became very intimate and made love regularly. And then, one fateful day, I found out I was pregnant. He was scared and asked me to abort. I refused and asked him to marry me immediately. After all, he loved me, right?’
Tears were bright in her eyes. ‘He said he wanted some time to think and would call me later. He never called me back and would ignore all my calls and messages. I was completely broken.’ She couldn’t control her tears anymore and started crying.
‘Please don’t cry,’ I said, reaching out to hold her hands.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, sniffing loudly.
I asked fearfully, ‘Did you abort?’
‘Yes. I had to. The day you asked me what happened to me was the morning of my abortion and I was very depressed.’ Her voice was firm and I knew she was trying to act strong.
‘I am sorry to hear that,’ I said with tears in my eyes.
‘It’s okay. I am fine now. Thanks to you.’
I was surprised to hear that. ‘Why me?’
‘Not you. Actually, your coffees,’ she laughed. ‘Every day I would come here to sit alone and think about what I should do. I was on the verge of committing suicide. I had lost all hope. I no longer believed in love, life or anything good. But when you gave me different coffees every single day without me even asking you, I felt alive again. You showed me there were choices. Someone was there who genuinely cared how I felt without even knowing me. I knew there were bad people in the world, but now I also know that there are good people like you as well. Thanks for everything. You are the reason I look forward to moving on with my life,’ Nisha explained with a smile.
‘I am glad I made a difference in your life,’ I said, a warmth filling my heart. ‘I never knew such little acts of kindness could have such an impact on people’s lives. But I wish you could have talked to me that day,’ I said.
‘What could you have done?’ She was surprised.
‘I could…’ I stammered.
‘What?’
‘I could have saved your baby.’
She sat straighter in her chair.
‘What do you mean? How?’ Nisha asked.
‘I would have married you,’ I said, holding her hands.
She pulled her hands out of mine. ‘What are you saying?’ she asked angrily. ‘Are you out of your mind? Why would you do that? Why would anyone do that?’ Nisha was furious.
‘Because I love you, Nisha. And love makes you do everything. Will you marry me?’ I said, closing my eyes.
~
‘Kabir! Did you really ask that?’ Vivaan asked in disbelief.
He nodded, smiling. ‘Yes, I did,’ Kabir said calmly.
I wiped my tears as curiosity pushed away my sadness. ‘Did you really mean that? Or was it just an impulsive thought?’
‘Did she say yes?’ Both Vivaan and I asked at the same time.
His eyes misted up. ‘Yes, she did,’ Kabir smiled.
I was so excited, I was almost vibrating in my chair. ‘So when are you guys getting married?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said. Disappointment was in his voice again. ‘There is a problem.’
I groaned. ‘After all this, what can be the problem now?’ I was shocked.
Vivaan and I exchanged a look and he shrugged. ‘Tell us,’ he prompted. ‘What is the problem?’
‘She belongs to a rich family and I do not,’ Kabir answered.
I was furious. ‘Don’t tell me that her parents refused to let her marry you.’
‘N
o, they didn’t. They agreed to the marriage and were actually quite happy about the idea.’
‘Then what’s wrong?’ I asked.
Kabir sighed. ‘I want to keep her very happy; I want to give her a secure future. I know money can’t buy happiness, but the fact is, it’s needed. I don’t want my kids to grow up as I did. I want to earn a good living before I marry her.’
Vivaan nodded his understanding. ‘But this is a steady job,’ he began.
‘It is a good job for a single person,’ Kabir explained. ‘But a family would struggle on my wages. Nisha is so used to a comfortable life. And, above all, I want to give my kids the best education and the lifestyle I couldn’t afford.’
‘True,’ I admitted.
‘Love is powerful,’ Kabir continued. ‘It can make you do things you could never imagine doing otherwise.’
Vivaan looked thoughtful. ‘How do you plan to earn a more steady income?’ he prompted.
‘I want to start my own café,’ Kabir responded. ‘It had always been my dream, and now, it is more critical.’
‘You would be so successful,’ I sang. ‘You do such an amazing job here, and if it was your own place, I bet everything you do now would be so much better there.’
‘Thank you,’ he said humbly. ‘But it’s not easy to just open up new doors. I need a lot of money and people to work for me. As much as I want to, I am very afraid I will never ever be able to start my café and marry Nisha. Right now, I am just trying to save as much as I can,’ Kabir explained.
‘How much money is needed?’ Vivaan pressed further.
I wanted to cry once again. It was almost cruel to ask Kabir such things when it didn’t seem to be something he could afford.
Kabir held up his hands. ‘About fifteen to twenty lakh.’
Vivaan reached down to pick up his laptop bag and took out a cheque book. Kabir and I exchanged curious looks. What could he be doing? ‘Here is a cheque for five lakh rupees.’ Vivaan’s voice took on a firm tone. ‘Get started with it. The rest will be deposited soon in your bank account,’ he smiled.
I was simply stunned and at a loss for words.