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Indigenous Fiction Drama

The girl.

On the 15th floor, a glass roof top restaurant, I stood out in the courier just like many others when the countdown began

5….

4…

People began shouting in tune with the countdown recording.

3….

2…

1…

“Happy New Year” they all shouted in unison and hugged their companions cheerfully.

“Happy New Year” I whispered into the air and tried holding a hand by my left side purely by habit, only to realise it is just me, here, tonight.

I withdrew my hand, rubbed it with the other, as the cold breeze, brought the chills, I tucked them in my pocket.

Along with the crowd, I stood at the rallying for a little while longer watching the sky crackers till the sky turns quiet.

Along with the sky, the roof got quiet. But the thoughts in my mind seemed to be at race.

One after the other, memories queued to take my notice, keeping the volume high in the head.

I grabbed a chair in the restaurant, which is lit partially by starlight.

I made sure the opposite seat is empty. As I always do.

“It was our favourite place.” My heart spoke

“What am I doing here?” mind questioned

“Where could I have gone?” heart responded

I couldn’t take the conversation anymore.

“What would you like to have madam?” asked a waiter, handing me the menu card.

“A black coffee and ……” my thoughts stammered as I reach the menu card, he offered …. As if it spoke something that I didn’t mean to.

“Madam…. anything else?” questioned the waiter, waiting for me to take the card.

“That’s all, thank you” I responded, denying the menu card.

“Ok madam” he bowed slightly and left.

“Black coffee?” my head began interrogating me

“It was never your favourite?” a mind told.

“Oh, my poor child….” Started my heart.

That was true, black coffee was something I could have never sipped, not even today. Coffee was always a combination of milk, coffee, and slight sugar, neither too bitter nor too sweet, just right.

But why the order you ask? That wasn’t for me but in a way for me.

While my brain battle over topics that I want to distance myself from and my eyes static on the opposite seat, feeling the warmth of the hot black coffee. A man walked straight to my seat. He wasn’t waiter, at least he didn’t wear anything like a waiter’s uniform. He wore a casual shirt and a jacket on top of it, paired it with a pair of denim jeans and white shoe.

“Excuse me? Can I sit here please?” He asked.

His initiation of conversation broke the commentary in my head.

I looked at him confused and began to search for other seats, turning my head, eying on nearest empty seats but they are none.

“I apologise, but they are all taken” he said politely

“Can I?” he continued, pointing his figure from him to the chair.

“Yes.” I answered in single syllable.

“Your coffee madam.” Came the waiter holding a tray, with a cup and saucer on it.

He placed it gently in front of me and wished me “happy new year madam, have a nice time” he bowed again and left, even before I wish him back.

“Black coffee, ha, not my taste, a coffee is always about milk and coffee with slight sugar, not too bitter and not too sweet.” He said with a smile.

“That’s what you are,” said my mind.

“He could be it.” Continued my heart.

I shooed my thoughts and held my warm coffee in my hand.

I staired at it too long, that he asked “Not drinking? Don’t like?”

“For which I didn’t answer” although he took my attention from the coffee.

“Waiter…. Waiter” he called

“2 milk coffees with single sugar cube, please don’t make it too bitter.” He spoke

The waiter took his order and returned quickly with two cups on the same tray.

“This is for you.” Offered the guy.

“Thank you but I didn’t ask for it, I already have mine.” I replied

“Looks like you need it. Try it. Please…” he insisted

Although I dare not to sip, my hands feel guilty just by the thought to abandon the black coffee, as if I am cheating on someone or something.

“Go on mam”, he pushed the milk coffee at little towards me.

“It’s time you pick that cup,” said my mind

“Maybe not” longed the heart.

As I got lost in the thought, the man seated opposite to me swayed me a little

“Mam, are you alright” he enquired.

“Yes, I am” I said, and I placed my cup on the table and approached his cup.

“You can’t do this.” Said my heart

“of course, she can,” said the mind.

I lift the cup and smell its coffee scent, “perfectly done” I felt.

As I felt the pleasure of being me for a second, my guilty conscious poke me back.

“Will it be, ok?” I thought

And the first sip brought tears to my eye for after years I met myself in the coffee.

“Are you alright mam?” he asked worriedly

“of course, I am,” I said.

“You moved little away tonight, with that coffee, do you realize?” said my heart

“You should have done it a long while ago,” said the brain

Slight pain in the heart, along with a relief strikes me together, giving a feeling of joy.

Soon, he kept talking about his travels, work life and I could see his attempt to keep me occupied and cheer me at least a bit.

And all this while he hardly brought the topic back to my tears, as if he doesn’t want me to take back to the pain that led to the tears.

“Which side of the table, do you love sitting mam?” he questioned suddenly

“Does that matter?” I responded

“Of course, it does,” he said

“Ok then, which is your side?” I asked

“The opposite side.” He told

“The opposite side, he said, did you hear that” jumped my heart recollecting the past.

“Cool down, it isn’t the time you drag her down with the deep memories you stored in there.” taunted the brain.

my eyes ready with water and my throat became slightly rough.

“And why is that?” I asked gathering myself together

“So that I watch them, while I speak, learn their feeling while we converse, and see the world in their eye.” He said cheerfully taking another sip from him cup.

A tear dropped from my eye completely unconscious, for his word unlocked many emotions.

“How is it to meet yourself?” said my head.

“Yet still you think,” mocks the heart.

I began crying as if I found myself in him, realizing I had been leaving in a vessel all this while.

My tears went rolling for a while and he sat their watching me, holding tissues ready to give them to me.

“Are you fine?” he said

“Sorry if I had spoken something wrong” he apologised

“No, not at all” I responded, with my heavy voice.

“Of course, not” my mind said “it was her fault to change for others” it continued

“To change in the fear of forgetting others” corrected the heart

“The heart you were holding long left the world,” said the mind

“It’s time you let go him in you and hold on to you that left you for him.” continued the brain

The boy’s story

My flight got delayed and I needed a place to kill time. I got into one of the famous and nearest restaurants to the airport.

I took the lift to the top floor. As I approach it, I could hear the count down loud.

“This isn’t how I planned to begin a new year,” I thought

I am glad, at least the places are open till 3 in the morning because of the New year.

I opened the door, and I was received by a concierge attendant. I felt bad for the poor soul that must work when the rest of the world is enjoying their evening.

He took my trolley and walked me to the reception.

“Good….” As the receptionist began to welcome me, a loud cheer “HAPPY NEW YEAR” went up.

She looked at me and with her sparkling eyes, she wished me “Happy New Year Sir, how may I help you?”

“Happy New Year madam, can I get a reservation in the restaurant for another two hours?” I asked

“I’m sorry, there are no reservations for tonight, if I am not wrong all the seats are filled.” She spoke

“You can occupy the one you find empty if the neighbours are ok.” She continued “as this location is famous for new year, keeping reservations felt betraying others who couldn’t get it, so we don’t book tables only tonight.” She explained.

I nodded as I hear her and asked her by pointing at my luggage “can you keep this safe for me?”

“Yes, of course” she replied signing the attendant to bring the bag.

I entered the restaurant. It was literally crowded. No space at all, except for one.

A lady was seated, holding something hot, and her gaze fixed on the opposite seat. As if she could see someone seated there and that the hot cup wasn’t for her.

“Hey, can I sit her?” I asked

She looked around and gave a vague nod, with single syllable reply “Ok”

While I sit, I could clearly see. She was holding a black coffee, a cup in which she felt lost. But she seems an opposite choice lady.

I started conversing with her, yet felt the urge to give a little taste of mine so I called the waiter and ordered two coffees of my choice

Offered her one, with the hope that she could find what she lost.

Tears rolled her eyes; it could have meant anything. But somewhere in her filled eyes, I found the guilty of moving on and urge to hold on.

A pain that I once found myself in. A confusion that felt both guilty and lost. An abandonment, not of others but ourselves. I kind of understood her but not exactly, it could be my imagination, so I choose not to speak about her tears.

I began sharing my stories, office, travels, and many more.

She took her time, wiped her tears, and began listening to me attentively.

I was glad to see her back normal. Just then I asked her a question.

“Which side of the table do you like?”

She didn’t answer for it but re-questioned me "what’s mine?"

I answered her with my genuine opinion

She was startled by my words like she had heard them before.  Her eyes broke into tears, but this wasn’t sad tears for sure. I could witness the sparkle in her eyes which wasn’t there, the moment I met her.

She was looking at the cup with black coffee, touched it softly, and began to cry.

“I am sorry madam, please don’t cry” I pleased.

“Was my understanding of her breakdown was wrong?” I doubted my intuitions.

I offered a tissue and said “You aren’t leaving anything behind by living your life, the past shall stay in the heart, let it be a moment or a person”

I pushed the coffee she liked a little towards her.

She got quieter and stopped sobbing.

She heard my words loud and clear. Picked the coffee I ordered sipped it and then told “Thank you”

“Welcome,” I replied. Wondering How I helped her, as the thank you seemed for something other than the coffee.

My time was soon approaching, and I had to leave. I coughed slightly as she got lost in her thoughts once again.

I gave her my hand, which she looked at very strangely.

“I have to leave now madam; my flight will take off in 2 hours. Hope you have a fine year ahead. Happy new year” I wished her, my hand still waiting for her reciprocate handshake.

She took her time but took my hand as well, “Happy Journey and Happy New Year” she said.

I smiled and left.

The girl

I cried and he watched me cry.

It might have been more than a year and a half, that someone watched me cry and wait with tissues in hand, till my tears dry up and I cool down.

“See there are people, who can be him and much more,” said my mind.

“I could see a hope,” said my heart.

I wiped out my tears and cleaned my nose.

He said something to soothe my mind. I didn’t see him as he say. After he said what he had to, he pushed the cup he ordered for me towards me.

His words triggered a conversation in my head.

“What are you scared of?” asked my mind

“I wonder what’s stopping her?” tried to figure out the heart

“You need not be guilty of moving on?” continued my heart

“The dead shall not know” glimpsed the mind

“Shut up you stupid” warned the heart

“Sorry, my bad” responded the mind

Just when I am battling between my mind and heart.

He offered his hand and said his goodbyes.

It was more than a year I touch someone. Not even a pet nor a familiar hug.

I was hesitant to hold. But he waited.

“Do it, dude, it’s your chance to start moving on” said both heart and mind together.

I shook his hand and bided my goodbyes.

He smiled and left.

But his words were within me, I need not feel guilty for being me and that nothing shall be forgotten as the past lives within. It felt true and I knew it all along but just had to hear it from someone. Someone who isn’t close. Maybe someone strange.

“Why fear to move on you ask?” I thought

“I am scared not to fall again and feel the same, but I am scared if I will ever find someone, who shall take me with the part of him left in me and the part of me I am in search of"

December 30, 2021 18:33

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