Cafes have had great significances in the history of mankind.
Imagine Sigmund Freud having a refreshing session of coffee in some Viennese Café, contemplating and then coming up with all the explanations; conscious and unconscious entities guiding human behaviors. Of course his major works originated in his clinic and the study but he sure did spend some time pondering upon the issues morbidly haunting his patients.
A simmering cup of coffee, slice of Pastry and his Cigar after a long day dealing with the psychos, disturbed maniacs, poor hallucinating souls or meek hysteric daughters hard-disciplined by their authoritarian fathers. Wow, just beautiful !
Moving to Paris, it’s not only that Tall Steel Structure that comes into my mind every time I think about this French city across the Seine. The buzzling café scene immediately fills my consciousness and rightly so, alongside that Iron Tower designed by a Civil Engineer named Gustave Eiffel, the cafes, bars, artists, musicians, literary fraternity, and so on, all add to the rich cultural history and persona of this city.
I mean, what would be Hemingway without the Parisian cafes. Anyone who has read his ‘A Moveable Feast‘ can easily measure the essence of cafes in his literary undertaking and what those cafes were like during the times F. Scot Fitzgerald, Gertrude Stein and Picasso staring at the passers-by with his big, disturbing eyes identical to those of Hatchet fish .
Now across the Atlantic, the American cafes laid witness to much of the Anti-war discourses and demonstration plans during the 1960s when the mighty America was taking beating by undernourished Vietnamese peasants.
Having said that, I am no Hemingway or Freud; Picasso or Todd Gitlin (and surely I’ll never be one) but I love visiting cafes. I do not know how exactly but I find some sort of heavenly solace every time I visit Himalayan Java, Yalamaya (Dhokaima cafe) or Cafe Caravan at Boudhanath.
Again, people have their own reasons to crawl into cafes. Most of them, to catch up with close-friends in real time and space, so that they can rediscover their true selves. I mean, spending too much time in the virtual world can really offer your the existential threat after some time. Some, to gang up and curse the politicians and the government, some to discuss the latest shows in Netflix or Dayahang Rai movies or some for the free Wi-fi to ameliorate the pain of waiting the sort of friends who always show up late and do the humblest of apologies but never amend this permanent habit of theirs.This article offers free shipping on qualified Face mask products, or buy online and pick up in store today at Medical Department
Me, I have three basic reasons: first, wait for the rain to subside so that I can go home without getting my shoes dirty . Second, to fulfill my daily dose of Caffeine requirement and finally the third, for no particular reason, could be anything from watching the passers-by in the streets, reading Thomas Friedman’s column in The New York Times or just shuffling my FPL squad for the Game Week.
Now, within this third reason, I sometimes indulge in short conversations with the person responsible for making and bringing me my dark black coffee, obviously when they are not so busy and rushed and when there are either very little or no fellow coffee-drinkers in the scene.
Amidst this political upheaval and the recurring cases of corruption and abuse of authority ( 90% amongst which meets similar fate- small fishes are trialed and sent to prison whereas the bigger ones are exonerated ), I try to get their opinion regarding the contemporary socio-political issues.
And, If the person behind the register is female and pretty I do not mind, I just have to be little cautious. Careful, not to give the fellow customers, staffs and most importantly she, that I am not hitting on her. Why creep those hardworking people, right ?
This time, for no particular reason I stepped inside Dhokaima cafe, a new franchise outlet at the Sankhamul height. I settled down with my Americano, a slice of Red Velvet and The New York Times. Within some minutes, the Kathmandu skies started to pour dogs and cats and I was glad I had found a refuge already. Despite it was raining heavily as if the heaven itself was trying to inundate the whole Kathmandu city and drown me along with it, I was not so scared. It goes swiftly just as it comes.
Half and hour, some articles and I was ready to grab my things and get going. While at the counter, I popped my mouth,
“the books you have there, they all suck ! perhaps it’s time now to substitute them with some better ones. “
“Yeah you’re right. I don’t like them myself”, replied the cashier cum barista who I guessed must be something around in his mid 20s.
“So you read too.”
“I would not say much, but history particularly interests me and everything they have written in that book sounds like eulogy and barely glorifying the deeds of Rana Regime.”
“What exactly did hit you?”
“Like Ranas made this and that palaces, abolished slavery system, assigned certain properties, lands and responsibilities to the people according to their family names ..and so on. Also the establishment of Shah dynasty is wrongly portrayed….”
“What did you say your name was , vai?”
“Rupak Bista”
“Oh Kaji Saheb ! so you have some army commander or bureaucrat’s blood inside your veins. “
“Well, the times have changed and I do not know if I would have really enjoyed being one. Anyway, where do you work , sir ?”
“I’m a Public servant, working for the government. hehe.”
“I also appeared in the exam once but could not pass the test…..”
“What government service?”
“For the Nepal Army.”
“Ok, so the Kaji blood does run in the vein, huh? “
He smirked. I paid the bills and disappeared from the scene till the next time.