Dharm

“It’s a good coincidence.” The sentence came out automatically. I wasn’t expecting this. Isn’t that’s the reason of a coincidence? We just stood there, watching each other. He was holding his jacket in his hand from which little drops of water were dripping.

“Shake it a little and come in, we have hooks and stands for jackets.” I said and I opened the door half, standing still outside. He shook his jacket a little, and then entered the café. When he was inside, I closed the door behind and turned the sign from “open” to “close”.

“Give it to me” I said forwarding my hand. He gave me the jacket and looked around the illuminated café of mine. The bulbs emit yellow colour, showing and giving the feeling that it’s warm in here.

“It’s beautiful” he said while rotating and walking forward. And I went to the stands and placed his jacket. By the time I came back, I saw him sitting in a two chair and table arrangement. Most of the furniture I used in my café were brown or shades of brown, either dark or light.

“You could have taken the sofa table.” I said while pointing towards the other lane. My café wasn’t that big. It consists of two floors. Ground and first, in ground floor there were three lanes. One is taken by the big vertical counter; the second consist of square table & chair arrangement. The lane consists of 4 sets. The last lane was also the set of 4 but with side sofa-table arrangement. The 1^st floor consists of 7 round table and 2 chairs for each table. I had long length lamps in my café. The one with long wire coming down and at the bottom the bulb is fitted.

“Nah, I like this one. Can we sit here?”

“Of course, we can. What do you want to drink?”

“Can I have the tea just like I had today’s morning?”

“Wow, did you like it that much?” I went to the end of the counter to get in the counter.

“Yeah, I did. I can’t get enough of it.”

“Cool.” And I started preparing the tea.

“Now I get it, why your tea taste so good, because you work in café.”

“Correction, here please. Not work, run the café.”

“This café is yours?”

“Yes” tea was almost half way done.

“Your café name is NIGHT CAFÉ but I can see that you are about to close. How is this night café then?”

“We all, that’s me and my employees work till 11:30 or 12 in weekdays. 2^nd and 4^th Sundays are off. And on non-off Sundays and every Saturday, I send them home early by 10-10:30. I can’t ruin their weekends.”

“But you make them work on weekends too.”

“Yeah, but only some weekends; ok I agree, many weekends. See I have a business to run, so weekends are good way to get money. Besides we have many part-timers too. So, my scheduled kind of works well.”

“That’s good then.”

Tea was done; I poured two cups and came to the table again. I gave him one cup, and sat on the chair opposite to him.

“You don’t like rain?” he questions me.

 “No. Why would you say that?”

“Because when you came outside, you said “This day couldn’t get any better, can it?”.” He took a sip of the tea.

“No, I was saying sarcastically.” I took a sip too,

“Hmm… this tastes just like morning one. So now which leads me to another question, had a bad day?” he took another sip.

“Well, you can say that.” I took a sip too. “I don’t want to talk about it. At least not right now...”

“Is it because I didn’t share, when you asked me to in the morning?” and he paused. Like my answer will determine his next action.

“No, it isn’t like that. So, tell me this when you know talking about something will ruin the mood and time. Will you still do it?” I said the sentence too fast. I just want to drop this topic and talk about something else.

“Well, I will answer that later. And I read between the lines, let’s drop this for now.” He placed his finished cup on the table. I was near too to finish mine.

“Need a refill?” I asked him.

“If we can go for another round, I won’t say no. beside this rain is making me in mood to drink even more.” He said with a smile, rubbing his hand.

“Just a sec then.” I took both our cups and went for a refill. When I came back, he brought both of his hands forward, and I placed the cup between it.

“So, how come you opened the café?” he asked me. He is way more talkative than before. Comparing to morning and last night, he is speaking more, like he is comfortable around here, around me.

“Well, I think I always wanted to. I can’t say any other reason, because I don’t think I have any. And I am pursuing my long-distance Food Science Bachelor’s degree. So, you can say that I always wanted to go in food line.”

“Well, as you might have already heard off, I was doing my Business Administration. Had to drop out because of papa’s death and now I am trying to run the only shop left. So now all my hands are on deck, let’s see how long I will be able to play.”

“Well, I am sorry to hear that. And everything will fall into its right place. Don’t worry. You will figure it out.”

“I have to figure it out.” He said in a firm voice.

By now we both are finished with our tea. I went to sink to wash the cups. After I cleaned them and placed them in their respective places, I came back to the table.

“So how much for the tea?” he asked and was taking out his violet.

“Hey, it’s on me. Don’t you dare to give me money because I will feel like you are giving money to spend time with me…” Well snap. What did I just utter?

He tried to suppress his laughter and said, “Cool, but next time if I will have something, I will definitely pay.”

“I won’t stop you then.”

The rain was pouring now even with greater force, we were able to hear the noise from inside too. I took my seat and he turned his face to me. His face was glowing in a way, like he was actually happy to be here. Or was I reading too much between the lines. Because I was having a good time too, I won’t deny that.

“What do you do in your leisure time?” this time I initiated the conversation.

“I watch series, movies, read novels too.”

“Oh, which one are you reading right now?”

“Well, I am not reading anything currently. But the last novel I finished was Nothing and Everything Between us.”

 “Well, the title sounds amusing, what’s the novel about?”

…

It’s still quarter to noon and at last rain came to a halt.

“Won’t your mom be worried? You didn’t even text her or called her that you would be late or stuff. Or you already did?” because while we were talking, he didn’t take his mobile in his hand for a single second, and neither did I.

“Nah, she is at her sister’s house for the time. Tomorrow is Sunday and she said she would be home by tomorrow. But I have a feeling that she won’t come tomorrow.” And he ended his sentence with a huff. I can feel that there was more to say, but he stopped himself. Like stopping the flow of the water.

“You know what…” I said, and he quickly turned his head to me. For a sec, I was dumbstruck. I almost forgot what I was about to say to him.

“Yes?” he was waiting for my reply. I gathered as much I could remember in a snap.

“I read in a novel…” I gestured to the back of the café. And we started walking.

“In which one of the protagonists was totally hit by the death of one of his loved ones. He was so down that he started isolating himself, less interaction with his own family too. But then he started to write. Started to write his feeling, his situation, and his thoughts.” We came to the back of the café where there is the parking. We both came to my bike, and I stopped because I thought that he would stop me to go. Or that I myself will stop and say some excuse. But neither happened, and I continued.

“One day his sister found the book in which he was writing. She knew that her brother was having a really hard time. But this much hard, she didn’t. She confronted him; it led to a big fight too. But at the end the guy admitted that he was having problem with coping up. And the only way he was a little good was by writing his feelings. After confrontation, he went to the therapist because he knew he needed help and the rest was happily ever after.”

His eyes were little wet, I could see that. He understood why I told him the story.

“Confrontations are bitter.” He said in low but deep voice.

“They are that’s why it’s called confrontation.”

“I am not ready… not yet.” His voice was breaking a little. And I don’t know how but the next thing I know, my hand was holding his neck. My fingers were caressing his nape and my thumb caressing his neck.

“Then don’t.” I spoke. “And don’t think that she is neglecting you. She is just coping up, just like you are. Her way is different, that’s all. Every person has their own way of coping up. It’s neither right nor wrong.”

He nodded his head. And after a pause which felt like eternity he said “So, I will leave. Later?”

“Sure.” And my face smiled on its own. So did his. He started walking away. It also occurred to me that I might give him a ride, but then it came to me. He needs some time alone.