“A cappuccino again, is it sir?”, the waiter waited for a nod. But, Agastya was busy scribbling in his notebook. The waiter came back in five with a cup of cappuccino. It was almost a daily ritual. He visited the cafe at around four in the evening and sat there till the crowds started pouring in. He would finally have a margarita and leave. He rarely interacted with anyone there except for asking the cashier for the bill which amounted the same everyday. As he got up from his chair to leave, he noticed a young woman in her mid-twenties entering the cafe. She was wearing a crimson top and denim jeans, and, had a bandana wrapped around her neck with one end hanging till a little below her chest and the other end on her back. She plucked the earbuds out of her ears as she sat around the table just opposite to that of Agastya. It was not the first day that Agastya had noticed her. It’s been around a week he saw her first. She had come with a man who was in his late twenties. But, since that day, she had been there without any visible company.
Agastya left the cafe and walked to the nearest metro station. As he reached the gates, he slid his hand into his packet for the metro card, only to realise he had left his wallet at the payment counter of the café. Going back meant he would miss the last metro, but, he had no choice. He walked back to the café. It was a ten-minute walk. He entered through the back door because the front door was over-crowded. He noticed his wallet lying just where he had placed it after paying the bill. As he placed it back in his left packet, he caught the waiter looking at him with quizzed eyes, as if wanting to ask why he had come back, but , then deciding , for better, not to. He felt he could do with another cup of coffee while he waited for the cab to arrive. So, he ordered it and went back to the table he always sat around. It was occupied. He took the one opposite to that one. He took out his journal and started scribbling. “Hey, are you a writer?” He lifted his head. “Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude but I have always seen you engrossed writing in your journal, so, I was genuinely curious” said Jessica with a slight smile revealing her shiny pearls.
“Ah, no, it’s alright. And yeah, I am a writer, or well, I’d like to think so.”
She had no idea about Agastya’s book. His maiden book had topped all the bestseller lists when it was first published and ended up winning a lot of those literary awards that year.
“Why do you say so”
“It’s just that it’s been years since I’ve published something.”
“Oh okay! By the way, I’m Jessica. I’m pursuing a career as a TV actress and I also perform in plays.”
Agastya acknowledged by smiling. And only when she asked explicitly ,”And what’s your good name sir?”, he replied, “It’s Agastya. And please don’t ‘sir’ me. I’m not as old as I look. They both chuckled. Then they had the coffee, exchanging glances in between and awkward smiles. “I’m afraid I’ll have to leave now”, said Agastya while placing the empty cup on the table. They shook hands and said goodbyes.
As the days passed by, they kept meeting each other frequently at the café over cups of cappuccino.
“Why don’t you ever talk about the book you are writing”, she finally asked one day.
“I don’t have much to talk about it yet.”
“What do you mean? It’s been three months since we met and I see you write daily.”
“Well, I try to, but you will be gravely disappointed to know that I haven’t added even a page to my draft in these months.”
“Wow, that’s unbelievable”, she looked startled. “So, are you battling what they say ‘the writer’s block’?”
“Umm, not really, but yeah, sort of.”
“Well, I might sound ignorant but how do you fix this?”
“One can’t really do much. You just keep trying and hope the muse speaks to you again some fateful day.”
“I really hope you find your muse soon”, she said with a wide smile.
“Thank you, I hope so too.”
“What are you doing tonight?”, she asked without looking at him.
“Nothing significant. I’ll just watch TV and then sleep, unless, my insomnia kicks in.”
“I’d love if you come to my play. It opens tonight for the audience.”, she said shyly.
“Sure, I’ll be there.”
She had been rehearsing for this play for over two months. Agastya had accompanied her on two occasions. He loved watching her rehearse. She reminded him of his younger self, when the struggle was real but the spirits were high. “Success brings complacency and maturity boredom”,he thought.
After the play, Agastya invited her over dinner at his house.
“I would have loved to, but there is a fundraiser event being organised and every cast member of the play are to attend it. I feel terrible but I hope you understand.”
“No, you must go. I do understand.” He had planned to propose her at his house on dinner that night. So, he felt a little sad returning home alone. He lived in a bungalow. He had bought it last summer and renovated it. It belonged to a famous poet of the town, but, when he died, the property went to an NGO, who later sold it. He wasn’t in a mood to have dinner. So, he made a cup of coffee from his coffee maker, which one of his admirers had gifted him. He finished the coffee and as he was about to enter the bedroom, the doorbell rang. His face brightened up. He knew it was her. It had to be. He adjusted his hair as he hurried to open the gate. And there she was – wearing a black high-slit gown and carrying a heavy jute bag.
“I brought dinner. The fundraiser got cancelled.”, she said as she entered the living room. The room was dimly lit. It had a library which covered all the sides of the walls except the front. She was impressed. They sat on the sofa and chatted for a long time until she said, “Let’s have dinner. The food must have got cold by now.” He brought plates from the kitchen and kept it on the glass table he often used as a dining table. She served for both of them. They had dinner together and after exchanging goodbyes , she left. Agastya couldn’t muster up the courage to do what he had planned.
As the months went by, the frequency of her visits to the café kept diminishing. One evening, Agastya was sitting at his table, sipping coffee, hoping she would walk through the door. It had become a routine for him. But that day, she did walk in. She looked pale. As soon as she caught his eyes, she excitedly waved at him. He waved back as she came towards him and they hugged. She looked frail. He enquired her about her health.
“No, I’m fine. It must be the exhaustion. I’ve been juggling hard between my TV auditions and rehearsals for my next play. I’m sure a good sleep will do the trick.”
“Your passion and dedication for your work really inspire me.”
“You embarrass me. A whole generation of young writers draw their inspiration from your book, and, you ask me to believe that I, a complete novice inspire you!”
“Well, it’s true though. I’ve something else to tell you as well. I’m not sure if I’m doing it the right way. I don’t know the right way. But, what I do know is that I must tell this now. Jessica, It’s getting very difficult to live in a moment where I’m not in your company. I want us to be together. I want us to grow old together watching sunsets from my window. I love you. I know, you might not feel the same for me. And, I promise I’ll understand that. But, by any luck, if you do feel the same, please let’s do this . I shall feel like the wealthiest man on the planet, with you by my side.”
He sipped his coffee as he waited for her reply. Her facial expressions were frozen the entire time. Finally, she spoke. “Thank, you. You have no idea how much this means to me. But, I’m sorry. And, no, it’s not about you. Any woman will be lucky to have you. “, she said as she watched his face drool in sadness and disappointment. She continued, “But, I can’t. And, I can’t explain why. It’s better for both of us.” She kept her unfinished cup of espresso on the table, got up, and moved towards Agastya. She bent and kissed him softly wit her wet lips on his. If he could, he would have frozen in that moment for an eternity. As he watched her go, a thought occurred to him. A lot had changed since they first met right there at the same table, a year ago. But, the only thing which was constant were the cups of cappuccino. It was the first point of commonality they discovered between themselves : the love for coffee. They met for the first time, as well as the last time, over cups of coffee, but he had no idea it was the last time he would see her.He finished her leftover coffee and thought of himself as crazy for feeling that the coffee smelt like her.
A year went by , but he never saw her again at the cafe. It was Sunday. He checked his mailbox and found a letter. He came back to his bedroom, tore the envelope and unfolded the letter. His heart sank. It was a funeral invitation.
“Mr Agastya,
It’s with a heavy heart that we inform you that our beloved Jessica passed away last night after bravely battling blood cancer since a year and a half. Even in her weakest, she didn’t lose her wit and the desire to live. She remembered you fondly in her conversations and her face used to brighten up whenever she mentioned you, which was almost daily. She left the attached letter for you which was only to be delivered after her demise.
It would comfort her soul if you attend the funeral tomorrow. May God rest her in peace.
Thank you
Sophie
Jessy’s mom”
He kept the invitation on the pillow as tears trickled down his cheeks. His world had shattered before he even started building it. He mustered the courage eventually as he finally opened Jessica’s letter with shaky hands.
“Dear Agastya
I shall be gone when you receive the letter. I really wished to die only after reading the book that you’ve been writing. But the cancer was in more hurry than you, it seems. I hope you complete it soon.
I’m writing this letter to tell you that I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you what you asked for. It’s not that I didn’t love you.But, I couldn’t bear you witnessing me getting getting weak day by day. I couldn’t live knowing how much pain it would have caused you to see me in such a state.
I want you to know that the time I spent with you at the café, in theatres and at your home – I cherished those moments when I was at my most vulnerable. Thank you for your love.
Yours
Jessica”
AFTER 2 YEARS
Agastya parked his car outside the cemetery . He took out a book and a bouquet of fresh white roses kept on the side seat and walked to Jessica’s grave. He kissed the grass there and spread the flowers over them. He opened the first page of the book. It was titled ‘THE LAST COFFEE’. He began reading from the book .“In the loving memory of Jessica, a friend, a lover, and most importantly my muse for this book……..”
