The Cafe

The Cafe

Retiring from the toiling day’s work I used to go to Café Grand. It is on Abdullah Haroon Road. If you go straight through Zaibunnisa Street in Saddar, you will find Café Grand just opposite to the back entrance of Hotel Metropole. From inside this restaurant is two storey, but second floor is sort of a gallery. The atmosphere of the Grand is one of the attractions for me to count it as the best. There was always been darkness in the café even in the day time. The lightning was so beautifully done that there is always a twilight just as of candles which gives a sensational tranquility.  The waiters move as they are floating on the carpeted floor. You can’t hear the sound of their movement but just the frisking of their uniform. 

The Music played in background was also my favorite.  It feels coming from no where but from everywhere. I feel the traces of tranquilizing effect sweeping in to whole of me. I always experienced an involuntary physical change that led me to note-able alteration in the acuity of tension I was in prior to coming to the café. 

Last week I went to the café and sat on the table I chose on the day I first came to this restaurant. This table is so placed in the corner that I can keep all the tables within my sight. I snap the passing by waiter and ordered my usual drink, coffee with some salty biscuits. I do not like creamy pastries or cakes. 

I threw a cursor look at the occupiers near me. Sipping my coffee and nibbling biscuit, I first look at the table on my right. This table always occupied by a girl. There was always girl, but everyday I saw new face. She was just sitting there, sipping her drink. I felt a sense of uneasiness, disturbed by some inner gloom. Once I had an eye to eye contact, I was shuddered to see the deep unknown gloom, as she was afraid that her innocence beauty was in peril. She was incessantly watching the watch wearing in her beautiful supple writs. 

After few minutes I found a commissionaire standing by her side. He slightly bowed and whispered in her eyes. She abruptly stood and followed him. Before leaving, she once again turned and looked at me. I again felt an electrical shock. It was just a fraction of a moment. Her eyes were gleaming with tears. I felt that they were saying “isn’t there any one who could save me, even you!” 

She turned her face and walked away, staggering like a person is taken to be crucified, head down, shoulders bowed. I felt myself empty from inside, as empty as I was no more. I sat there for few moments trying to gather myself, and then left the café. 

On my way back I felt a deep dejection within me. I was feeling that I was nothing. My condition was of like a person who could save a dying person but did nothing.

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Comments

  • Here I found it again, Pa. Your writing style is amazing. I love the way you add details making the reader feel it and see it, as if they are present in the story.

    I can feel her sadness, see the gloom in her eyes. I can see her pleading through her eyes, looking for a way out of her misery. Desperately waiting for a messiah to rescue her. 

    Amazing piece of writing, Pa. Absolutely loved it! 

    • Thanks once again warda baita.

  • Yes Diah you have hit the nail on the head. Thanks alot for liking my stories..
    You are most welcome.
  • Hey Mishaikh, after reading some of your writing, I can declare myself as your fan!! I adore how you write in details beautifully. I love this story. So simple but has a deep meaning. What I can conclude from this story is "the eyes who speak". I personally sometimes ever trapped in such situations. I speak with strangers only by eyes.  

    So, the girl was unhappy and needed somebody's help at that time? 

  • Haha... I like calling you Papa, as well... I thought it might be more suitable if I address you a little more formally (hehe). 

    Haha.. I am not sure if i can wait that long.... Thank you so much, Papa. I always love reading your writings. 

  • Haha Warda
    You can call me what you wish. But I still wish you to call me papa. I like this.

    Hmm again not understand it. But take few years more. Haha.
    Good to see you here in this forum Warda. Most welcome.
  • I was 15 when I first read this story... & I am reading it again at the age of 21 years. 

    But I can never seem to understand this story, sir( or shall I call you papa here as well? Hehe!) 

    I still am confused about it... Does that mean that I am still not mature? 

  • Thanks Dara and Roman for liking the story.

  • Ap janta kiya hoowa, Mishaikh? Mujhei koffei dukanon pasand nahi hai. I prefer restaurants to eat a meal and have tea or coffee at the same time. I also like rendezvous away from those coffee shops. I hope you will never feel dejected, my dear good friend. I wonder if I commented on this topic before or not, nevertheless, plenty of feelings were poured there.         

  • Hi Mishaikh! That interior of the cafe is really great! And I would like to visit that cafe. But I can't stop guessing, what did he tell her. I don't think that it was about death. Because if it was death, she wouldn't be able get up immediately. She could lose counsciousness or be shocked.  So it was something very bad, but not enough to make her shocked. And as she was waiting for that message, it means that it could be something like bad luck, but she was expecting for success till the last moment. And maybe just because of that soothing atmosphere she wasn't shoked and didn't lost consciousness. How sad. By the way, how can you drink a coffee with salt biscuit?

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