I walk down the stairs my head throbbing from too little sleep. The smell of coffee wafts my way and I cheer up. Even as I warm the milk for my coffee, I notice Amma fixing Saathi’s lunch. I am tempted to envelop her in a hug. The moment passes and I sit at the island sipping on the steaming beverage and skimming through news on my iPad.
The rest of the morning passes in a blur and the house is quiet again. I watch my baby as she nurses. The combination of solitude and the warmth of baby on me makes my mind go places. The aroma of the coffee from the morning still hangs around me like a warm blanket.
It has always been coffee for me. Early mornings as I came back home from my weekend trips away. Evenings after I came home from work. Late nights as I sat studying. Mid day when sleep threatens to hinder productivity. Anytime a dull headache starts. When things go well. When the future looks dark.
It reminds me of simpler times. Of oonjals and jackfruit. Of weddings and funerals. Of community. Of loneliness. Of endless conversations. Of harmless flirtations.
It is happiness in a cup. It is home away from home. It is nostalgia. It is connection to my dad. It is comfort. It is celebration.
This is my entry to Day Ten of Writing 101 at The Daily Post