|
|  |
|
|
|
| |
| Mar 18, 2007 2:22 pm |
|
Hot Chocolate |
Puja Kodavasal
| |
On my walk back from the Grand Plaza, Brussels, one of the biggest and most beautiful squares in all of Europe, I just didn't feel quite ready to go back to the hotel room. At about ten in the night, the streets are quite empty. A light drizzle, the odd clickety clock of pencil point heels on cobblestone pathways, as windows shut, lights switch off, tourists huddle up in cozy warm cafes and pubs.
I like the rains. It was raining in London a couple of days back. But London is different. Come rain or shine, you'll never find an empty street. But here, the streets turn mysteriously empty, sincity like eerie. Little shops with lighted window displays, porcelain mannequins staring cold, adorned with pretty white embroidered scarfs drift by, as I pick up a whiff of chocolate lazily floating in the air.
It leads me to a modest street cafe on the main road, half a dozen benches with little umbrellas. Almost deserted, but for an old couple, I saw through a cloud of cigarette smoke at their table. Didn't look to me like a fancy place with snooty waiters, so I bravely pick a nice corner facing the road, and looked around for a friendly face. I was pretty used to getting curious glances from people passing by. Strange girl in a strange city all alone at a strange time. How I wish I was actually a spy. In disguise. Some mystery surrounding. Suspense music. Something worthy of all the stares. How boring to be just another tourist in a cafe. Sigh.
I took time going through the elaborate menu as if I could understand what it read. What was there to decide? It's just hot chocolate, and all I wanted was hot chocolate. I feel a presence. I look up. An imposing structure in black. And I wonder for three seconds if something dressed so well, could, possibly be a waiter. Dare I ask him for a cup of hot chocolate? I didnt. He smiled. He knew. I knew I looked stupid. 'Chocolat madam??'. I nodded.
I look up again, hoping to find the moon. The only familiar face, always makes me feel close to home. It was hard to spot the sky behind all the eighty, hundred storeyed glass structures, in a city that is a happy mix and match of mighty geometric sky scrapers between seasoned medieval buildings.
Big brown cup of dark, sweet, rich, sinful, melted chocolate. A golden wrapped cube of Godiva by the side. Almost makes you feel you don't deserve it. It would take thirty seconds to gulp it all down. I took an hour. I wanted to soak in every little sight, take a deep breath after every little sip, look at every person who walked by, every car that whizzed past, feel every drop of sweet chocolate warm my throat, and made me smile silly like a little child who found a five rupee coin on the street.
'Happiness' is these fleeting moments which pass by, ever so swiftly, that you want to grab them and string them together and make them last for just a bit more. Private Reply to Puja Kodavasal (new win) |
|
| |
|
