An Extreme Love of Coffee

by Harish Bhat

  Now, in their room in the well-appointed Ocean Pearl Hotel, with the day just about to break, Neha finished writing her blog on monsoon Malabar coffee. Rahul was still asleep. He had, after all, consumed an excellent but rather rich seafood meal the previous night, the sort that called for lots of rest. The fried ladyfish with spicy red masala had been particularly delicious. Watching Rahul wolf down the fish, Neha had decided to write a separate blog about Mangalorean cuisine. But first, she had to write about the coffee before she forgot what she had composed in her mind while speaking to Sharad Machaiah. The blog had come out quite well in the end. For a writer, that’s always fulfilling, a good piece done and dusted. Her mind now began wandering idly.

  In the course of this meandering, she thought about reading the clue once again. Perhaps some new fact or meaning would jump out at her. That happened quite often when she was writing and thinking, all by herself. She reached into her handbag and pulled out the old tin in which they had found the third clue at the pawnbroker’s store in Coimbatore.

  She opened the tin and pulled out the musty paper with the monk’s writing.

  Goddess from the sea, you welcome our coffee.

  Rain and mellow, we are gold and yellow.

  Then, she read what was scrawled on the reverse.

  Every coffee bean tells a story, including my own, says the goddess.

  Blank. Nothing struck her. She looked at the tin now, the old Parry’s Lacto Bon Bon container, with scenes from famous fairy tales depicted on it in blue and white—the ugly duckling, the tin soldier, the little mermaid, a blue nightingale and the emperor’s new clothes. She remembered a book from her childhood, her father reading out many of these fairy tales to her from a large colourful book once she was tucked into bed for the night. Those were warm and safe memories.

  She tried to recall the name of the book. Soon enough it came back to her: The Magnificent Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen. Yes, she had kept the book in her cupboard even after she entered high school, with its pages totally dog-eared by then—large, colourful pictures on every page; mesmerizing stories that had stoked her childhood imagination gently and lulled her to sleep. Then she had an epiphany. All the scenes on this tin, without exception, were from that happy old dog-eared book, from Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales. A thought occurred to her: was there a reason why the monk had used this particular tin to store this clue? Was the tin a part of the clue as well?

  Neha googled Andersen to know more about him.

  Hans Christian Andersen was a Danish writer of stories, novels and poems. He is best remembered for his timeless fairy tales. His popularity across the world arises from the universal themes of his stories. His stories have inspired countless movies, ballets and plays. He died at the age of 70, in Copenhagen, in the kingdom of Denmark. An icon in his country, one of Copenhagen’s widest boulevards is named after him.

  Many of Andersen’s fairy tales describe the lives of girls, women and princesses. The Little Mermaid, the Nightingale, the Little Match Girl, the Snow Queen and Thumbelina are examples. Andersen’s own life was marked by his falling in love with many unattainable women, whom he regarded as goddesses, and many of his stories are indeed interpreted as references to these goddesses. Some of his better known disappointments in love included Jenny Lind, the famous opera singer; Sophie Orsted, the daughter of a famous physicist; and Louise Collin, the youngest daughter of his own mentor Jonas Collin.

  Perhaps the most beautiful and moving renditions of Andersen’s works comes not from Europe, but from the Orient. The World of Hans Christian Andersen is a 1968 Japanese anime fantasy film from Toei Doga, based on Andersen’s works. It depicts a young Andersen and how he discovers the inspirations he will later use for his fairy tales.

  This reference to Japan intrigued Neha immediately. There was a lot of Japan popping up in her life these days; it couldn’t be a coincidence. And the monk who had given them this tin was Japanese too. So, she kept digging deeper.

  Hans Christian Andersen and his fairy tales have enjoyed great popularity in Japan, for many decades now. Every Japanese knows Andersen and his stories, whether they be school students, housewives or even monks in their stark monasteries. Often, he is known just by his initials, HCA. One of Japan’s most-visited theme parks is Hans Christian Andersen Park in the city of Funabashi.

  In fact, HCA has penetrated so deep into Japanese culture that you will see restaurants, cafés and bakeries named after Andersen. Little Mermaid Bakeries, named after Andersen’s famous seaside character, started in the Hiroshima region. They offer delicious Danish pastries and are now present across the country. It is said that Japanese translations of Andersen’s fairy tales are even more beautiful than the original stories themselves.

  It was astonishing to Neha that a Danish author could be a household name in Japan. She reread everything to make sure she had understood correctly. Then she sat back and reflected. Andersen’s stories went all the way from Denmark to Japan and became a part of popular culture there, even amongst monks! She also remembered Sharad Machaiah’s stories of his Appappa and monsoon Malabar coffee, going all the way from India to some European countries and becoming part of coffee culture there. Wasn’t Denmark one of the countries he had mentioned? Yes, it was. The gears started clicking together in her mind. She stood up from her chair in a state of excitement, shook Rahul hard and pulled at his feet for greater effect.

  ‘Rahul, wake up! Get up now! Right now! There’s something I need to tell you urgently. It’s important. I think I’ve solved the monk’s third clue!’

  *

  Rahul was half-asleep and still trying to figure out where he was. Vivid and extremely spicy memories of the seafood from last night were still flashing in his mind and, unfortunately, deep in his stomach as well. Neha was excited, coffee cup in hand, clear-eyed, eagerly and breathlessly unravelling the monk’s third clue.

  ‘Look, Rahul, at this Parry’s tin that the monk put the clue in. Here it is, look at it. It’s decorated with pictures from Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales. The tin soldier, the little mermaid, the ugly duckling, they’re all here. Andersen was from Denmark, but he is very popular in Japan too. Every Japanese knows his stories. Isn’t that strange? Even in schools in Tokyo, films in Hiroshima, monasteries in some interior place called Funabashi, actually he is everywhere, even in street-side bakeries that the Japs eat from, and local stuff like that. Did you know that? I think it’s fascinating.’

  Rahul did not know that. His acquaintance with Japan was recent, but of rather novel vintage. He wondered where this muddled narrative was leading. Coming from the world of advertising, he believed that in such matters patience was a virtue, and that out of confusion often came clarity. So many meandering, endless client meetings had schooled him in this belief. So he waited and listened silently as Neha carried on.

  ‘So, here’s what I think, Rahul. I think this tin is very much part of the clue that the monk left for us. It’s not just a container. Let’s look at the clue again.’

  Goddess from the sea, you welcome our coffee.

  Rain and mellow, we are gold and yellow.

  ‘So, we have now found the gold and yellow coffee, the monsoon Malabar beans. And we know they have a mellow taste, that this wonderful taste is created by the monsoon rains. The second part of this clue is clear then. So far, we’re on the right track. But we still have the first line to deal with. What do we do?’ Neha spoke without a pause and then continued in the same vein, answering her own question.

  ‘We think, Rahul. So let’s think carefully about the first line. Goddess from the sea, who welcomes our coffee. It must have a link to the second line, the monsoon Malabar beans. Otherwise, why would the two lines be part of the same clue? And then suddenly, the question occurred to me: where were these monsoon Malabar coffees greatly welcomed? Welcome is the operative word here. And remember what that guy on the tiger skin told us. I found him a little creepy, to tell you the truth, but he
told a good story, didn’t he? He said this special mellow coffee was welcomed in Europe, particularly in Scandinavia which is Norway, Sweden and Denmark. Now, see the connection, Rahul. One of the three countries where monsoon Malabar coffees have always been greatly welcomed is Denmark. Hans Christian Andersen is from Denmark, his fairy tales are from Denmark. He is famous in Japan, where our monk is from, and so he must have heard of him. And the tin in which he has carefully stored this clue has scenes only from Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales, all from Denmark!’

  Rahul’s eyes widened now. Yes, Neha seemed to be heading somewhere with this. He sat up, his blanket still around him.

  ‘So much of Denmark everywhere cannot be a coincidence. Our monk is leading us somewhere. So I think, in fact I am quite sure, the first part of this clue is about Denmark. Then who is the goddess from the sea, in Denmark, who could possibly welcome our monsoon Malabar coffee? For that answer, turn the tin around, Rahul, and look at this picture.’

  She pointed her finger at one of the fairy tale figures on the blue and white tin. Rahul looked. And then, both of them looked at each other. Yes, they finally had the answer. It was there all this while, right in front of them, on this little, old tin. Neha had figured it out so well. Good show, detective girl!

  ‘There you are, Rahul. The little mermaid. She is a goddess from the sea. Mermaids are divine creatures of the sea. And she sits by the seaside in the capital city of Denmark, Copenhagen, welcoming ships as they come into the harbour there. And what do some of these ships contain?’ She paused for effect and then delivered her closing argument with a flourish, ‘Special monsoon Malabar coffee from India which merchants in Denmark greatly treasure. So there it is. Goddess from the sea, you welcome our coffee. So clever our monk was!’

  Rahul was wide awake by now. His wide eyes betrayed his excitement. He reached out without warning and kissed Neha on the cheek. A wet early morning kiss, sloppy and wide, a spontaneous warm gesture but without any mark of kissing distinction.

  ‘Neha, darling, the monk is clever, but you are cleverer. You’ve got it all figured out. We’ve got some tickets to book right away—to Copenhagen and the little mermaid! Here we come. But first, let me clear my little brain with the best cup of coffee that this place can offer.’

  They had coffee and breakfast at New Taj Mahal Café, Mangalore’s iconic coffee restaurant. Neha was excited at the prospect of Copenhagen and authentic Danish pastries. Rahul was excited at coming closer to the monk’s mysterious treasure. He knew that they had just ten days ahead of them to get to the treasure, before the Nippon Springlove film shoot began in Mumbai. Haroon had insisted that he be there, and rightly so, because a lot of their future fortune was tied to the success of this film.

  But this would be crunch time in other ways too. The Yamamoto brothers had already told Haroon that they would be coming to Mumbai for the film shoot. There was no doubt that they would aggressively seek the return of their family treasure. Based on recent events, including the elephant attack, these crazy Japanese brothers were clearly inclined to some dangerous methods. Rahul and Neha had beaten back the elephant thanks to RG, but who knew what more they could be up to?

  RG, the scourge of attacking elephants, had also come out with them. As usual, he held his coffee mug in his pale, white hand. They had never figured out how he refilled his mug, but whenever they saw it was always full of steaming coffee. Maybe ghosts had their own way with such things. Rahul had concluded that it was safer and more prudent for humans not to probe too much into the world of the dead.

  ‘I will be flying back to my coffee plantations now, Rahul and Neha,’ RG said. ‘I cannot come to Denmark with you. It is completely out of my ghostly boundaries, as you can imagine. But this will be such an exciting journey for you. I wish I could have been there to see the mermaid, even feel her a little bit,’ he said with a ghostly smile. ‘The monk will be so happy to see that you have got this far. All because of your love of coffee! Yes, he left the discovery of his beloved treasure to just the right coffee couple. He must be smiling in his grave, the old phoney, rum-guzzling bastard.’

  They raised a cheery toast to RG. Over the small steel tumblers of New Taj Mahal Café’s famed filter coffee, they thanked him for being their guide and companion, and for saving them from the deadly elephant. RG was touched. After years of loneliness, their company had breathed fresh air into his afterlife.

  Over that delicious coffee toast, they bid a fond farewell to RG, who then flew back to the only home he knew. Rahul and Neha continued their breakfast with two local specialities: tuppa dosa (rice pancakes roasted in ghee) and golli bhajjis (round, fried snacks made using flour, sour curd and grated coconut), served with thick green chutney, all of which complemented the filter coffee perfectly. All the time, Rahul and Neha spoke excitedly about their upcoming visit to the little mermaid in Copenhagen.

  25

  The Little Mermaid is one of the world’s best known and most-loved statues. It sits on a rock just by the seaside on Copenhagen’s Langelinie promenade. Unlike other famous statues, such as New York’s Statue of Liberty or Rio de Janeiro’s Christ the Redeemer, it does not tower over you. Instead, it is surprisingly small and unimposing—just 4.1 feet tall—but it is an icon of Copenhagen and Denmark, and beloved of the entire planet, drawing a large number of tourists throughout the year.

  Amongst these tourists are a disproportionately large number of Japanese who have adopted the Little Mermaid as their own. What Rahul and Neha did not know is that one of these Japanese tourists, who came here around fifty years ago, was their own coffee monk. He had come there bearing a small package in his right hand. Now, many decades later, Rahul and Neha were there too, on the lookout for this same package. Hopefully it would give them the monk’s final clue to the treasure that had been hidden so safely. Tucked away in Neha’s rather large handbag were all the earlier clues: pieces of paper with the monk’s writing on each of them, all the accompanying old pouches of coffee that came with each clue, and now the Parry’s Lacto Bon Bon tin as well, with its Andersen fairy-tale pictures, all neatly wrapped together.

  Rahul and Neha had arrived in Copenhagen last night. Now, they sat by the promenade licking their ice cream cones and gazing at the Little Mermaid. Neha recalled the history of the statue. She had read up on this during the long flight from India to Europe, in preparation for the final leg of their monk-inspired treasure hunt. The bronze statue had been created by the sculptor Edvard Eriksen way back in 1913, based on Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale.

  In that timeless tale, the little mermaid falls in love with a handsome prince. To marry him, she needs to become human. She then proceeds to strike a deal with a sea witch, who is extremely evil. The fairy tale then takes us on a gripping voyage through such evil and good, and the dilemma that the little mermaid faces. Though she is unable to marry the prince of her dreams, she eventually succeeds in her quest for an immortal soul because of her selflessness.

  When this moving tale was staged as a ballet in Copenhagen’s Royal Theatre in 1909, a wealthy man called Carl Jacobsen, who was heir to the Carlsberg beer fortune, was fascinated. He commissioned Eriksen to create a statue of the mermaid with the ballerina Ellen Price as the model. But Price, presumably a lady of high moral and prudish standards, had refused to model in the nude because that’s how mermaids are depicted. Eventually, Eriksen’s wife, Eline, was chosen as the model, and the famous statue was created and unveiled in August 1913.

  As Neha and Rahul looked out at the little mermaid, her nudity struck them as the statue’s most natural feature. She seemed to be expressing longing through every inch of her bronze being, with her languorously placed hands, beautiful small breasts and the intense, frozen sadness. Clothing would have obscured such longing, maybe even overpowered it. Nudity expresses human vulnerability like nothing else could, Neha thought to herself, particularly for women. Was this true for men too? She was not sure, and she didn’t want to ask Rahul. It w
as an interesting topic that could wait for another day.

  What she did want to ask Rahul was—given that they were here now—what was next. They had spent a day walking through the beautiful streets of Copenhagen, marvelling at the delights it offered—the city’s historic city centre with cobbled pathways, the eighteenth century rococo district of Frederiksstaden and the historic Rosenborg Castle had provided them a leisurely day to gaze and reflect. Now, they must pursue what they came here for: the monk’s third and final clue to the treasure. They knew that they had very little time.

  So, she asked Rahul. He was looking quite composed and calm, a sign that he was thinking deeply about something. Rahul licked the last bits of his vanilla ice cream cone and spoke languidly. ‘Neha, our monk has sent us on a coffee-inspired hunt. So, let’s get some nice Copenhagen coffee, shall we? Maybe the coffee will make our minds spin in the right direction. That’s happened to us several times already.’

  They walked across to a large coffee shop that had a small roastery within it. The shop was warm and slick, and the range of coffees on offer was mind-blowing: full-bodied Ethiopian coffee, intense coffee from Bolivia, organic light-roasted arabicas from Colombia, Jamaican blue mountain coffee, Vietnamese civet coffee, coffee kombucha, fresh and fruity coffee from Kenya, and medium-bodied coffee with hints of cheese from El Salvador. The list drew Rahul into its web immediately, like a magnet draws iron, and he stood there for a few minutes, fascinated, reading up and down. Finally, Neha prodded him and said: ‘Hey, coffee man, shall we ask for our drinks?’

  Rahul blinked, turned to her and answered almost immediately. ‘Yes, let’s ask for the coffee that led us here, to Copenhagen and the little mermaid: monsoon Malabar coffee from India, the coffee that Europe has been in love with for decades. It will beat all these other varieties for sure,’ he spoke confidently, with a sliver of the smile that Neha loved. It was a smile in the making, one that stopped short of becoming a full-blown smile.