I am at one of my favorite eateries in the world. Its a small hole in the wall kind of place, which serves some of the finest food and coffee.
I was talking to the lovely lady who runs it, she finally got me to re-think my aversion to light roast coffee. (I started with light and medium roast, but eventually now almost drink dark blends or single origins).
I have been sipping a light roast all day today. Something I bought off her store.
Though what struck me (and this post) was something more instructive. As my friend finished her call, I sat around - glanced at the cafe (small 300 sq ft place). Full of baking equipment. A tiny Bose Speaker playing Charles Bradley - Good to back home. The lady, and what I assume to her partner and her son - all focussed on their work. The lady continuing to bake and cook food as she continued through the motions. With almost a pious zen like rhythm.
As an example, the son (I assume) was busy making boxes to pack the pastries as they waited for the next customer to walk in. In the midst of this, the mother (the lady) walked upto him and admonished him about packing something wrong. And this kid must be 15 years old.....
I have always wanted to open a cafe. A jazz cafe to be precise (blame Murakami to put that idea in my head). And I could not imagine my dream being different from this fav eatery of mine.
It does not cost much to choose happiness. I compulsively almost never choose it. And today the instruction at this coffee house was, that happiness is a poem written by us. The lady and the coffee showed me the way.
What a memory to file away.
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