February 13, 2013
The Rama Cafe
‘What time do we meet?’
‘He will be there at 7 AM to greet his blind followers’
‘Well its 6AM already – lets get started’.
‘There’s no hurry my friend, we can get there on time, why we can even have a cup of coffee’.
‘They’d warned me that you are a bit weird…but this weird, I couldn’t have imagined’!
‘Ah what’s wrong with a hot cup of coffee…before we write history?’
Narayan was perspiring at six in the morning, although Delhi wasn’t all that humid in January. ‘You are crazy, you know that right?’ .
‘Well lets discuss that on our way to the coffee stall’ he said.
As the two friends walked past the Birla House, they spotted the familiar Café at a distance, but something was odd. It didn’t look like the one they were familiar with and the door was closed.
‘That’s odd – I ve been here for the last 6 months, it opens by 5 AM’ ‘Its 6:30 – and its still closed – strange.’
Narayan went near the door and tried to force it open. But the lock seemed different. He had not seen this before. He gestured to his friend to come and have a look. ‘You have to pull not push Narayan’ the friend said. The door opened. As the two men stood in front, a cold breeze greeted them at the door.
There was a hint of coffee in the air …they walked in. ‘What is this place? ‘Narayan asked.
‘Look at the lights on the ceiling, as if they are hidden but still showing and shining so brightly’
'I’ve never seen something like this before.' Narayan looked around, the bright orange and beige combination was something he’d never seen before. The couches were of a different material. He touched them and his fingers sank into the soft leather.
‘Sir what would you like to have today – a mocha or a single shot espresso?’
The two friends looked at each other puzzled. ‘What is that?’
‘Well sir its a type of coffee ? Have you not been here before?’
‘Yes we have, uh no, no actually not this one…or not this type. ‘Narayan said.
‘Well sir I can help you with that – there are different types of coffee beans, and you can choose the combination you want, black,decaf,or latte with milk or caramel. So which one will it be for you?’
‘How much for which one sir?’
‘Just a regular coffee’ Narayan said.
‘Sir there is nothing called a regular coffee here’.
'How can you not a have coffee in a coffee stall? Narayan was getting restless.
‘Ok ok, how much is a coffee with milk?’
‘Ah Café latte will cost you about Rs.300 including taxes.’
‘Yes sir you heard it right’
‘That’s what I earn in a year perhaps’
‘I am sure you are joking sir, but if you need sometime to decide I am happy to come back to you a bit later’ the steward said retreating back to the counter.
‘Lets get out of here’ Narayan said. For the first time his friend was speechless and in agreement. The men were puzzled and looked at each other in disbelief.
‘Wait what time is it? The friend asked the steward. ‘Sir – its 8AM – you can go now’ he said with a mystical smile. ‘We missed it again’ Narayan whispered. It was January 30th, 1948 -Narayan Apte and Nathuram Godse missed their mission for the 6th time.
Gyanban Thoughts - This is pure play fiction where surreality is mixed with reality.The sensory elements such as sight,taste,smell,hear have been fused into the story.This story is by no means disrespectful towards anyone sentiments.This just explores a possibility of what if from a futuristic angle.
The Mahatma was killed on the 6th attempt, the previous 5 attempts had been unsuccesful.It was this fact that triggered the story.
“Stop staring at me! Stupid cab, didn’t see the puddle. Now please, eat baby, don’t fuss,” said June pushing the tray. Just then Consta...
'Give me your number again ,I just lost my address book’ requested Rohit. '9211 04201’......... .....'& Radhi...
When I was a nobody, you walked in to be somebody, my life was going no where, don't know why you wanted to share, love luck or money I...
what is life but an excuse for death,or death but an escape from life... just like the butterfly counts not months...but moments...and ...