It has really been a long time that I haven’t had a cup of cappuccino, which I love very much, especially when accompanied with cigarettes.
The history of my liking is deep-rooted in my mind. In the last half or probably in the first month (historical dilemma) of 2004 or ’05 respectively, I remember I first stepped into a CCD. The CCD of City-center was (still is I hope) a wonderful place for hanging out with pals and girl-friend and I liked it very much. Which appealed me the most was its terrace: open, airy and perhaps a bit rustic compared to Barista’s suffocated sophistication. I used to sit on the terrace for hours taking slow sips and deep smoke, sometimes with my girl-friend, chums and sometimes alone. The feeling was unique in itself. I felt great; - a bit intellectual, sophisticated, sometimes talented, rarely worthless, urbanized youngster. Sometimes I did not like to speak at all. I just wanted to enjoy the coffee and the puffs, - that was amazing.
The cappuccino of CCD (SDF) had another taste altogether. I worked over there in two BPOs, but I seldom visited that shop. The taste was more of a maturity, fashionable, imposed sophistication typed. I did not like. Still I visited the shop (with some so-called colleagues) because that was cappuccino dear!
I do remember the cappuccino I had in Delhi with friends and sometimes alone with the memory of the past days in Kolkata. I remember for the first time I played guitar inside Barista contaminating the strings with the smell of cappuccino.
Last month, at Arambagh, I went to a small coffee shop and asked for a cup of coffee. After a long sleep I desperately needed a cup of strong coffee with two-three cigarettes in the evening. But I felt really helpless when the shop-owner in a harsh voice (contrasted to the decency and gentleness of CCD boys) replied negatively.
My wife also loves cappuccino. She mainly loves it because I love it. She wanted me to buy a cappuccino-maker. One day she tried to make some coffee and offered me being confident enough on her recipe. I had that coffee and to my surprise… she did a wonderful job! I looked at her eyes: they were glittering with joy and love seeing cheer on my face. I discovered her as a new entity, - not a girl this time but an efficient woman who takes care of the entire household successfully. I thanked her in my mind as she saved my money from buying a cappuccino-maker. I said… I love you!
The history of my liking is deep-rooted in my mind. In the last half or probably in the first month (historical dilemma) of 2004 or ’05 respectively, I remember I first stepped into a CCD. The CCD of City-center was (still is I hope) a wonderful place for hanging out with pals and girl-friend and I liked it very much. Which appealed me the most was its terrace: open, airy and perhaps a bit rustic compared to Barista’s suffocated sophistication. I used to sit on the terrace for hours taking slow sips and deep smoke, sometimes with my girl-friend, chums and sometimes alone. The feeling was unique in itself. I felt great; - a bit intellectual, sophisticated, sometimes talented, rarely worthless, urbanized youngster. Sometimes I did not like to speak at all. I just wanted to enjoy the coffee and the puffs, - that was amazing.
The cappuccino of CCD (SDF) had another taste altogether. I worked over there in two BPOs, but I seldom visited that shop. The taste was more of a maturity, fashionable, imposed sophistication typed. I did not like. Still I visited the shop (with some so-called colleagues) because that was cappuccino dear!
I do remember the cappuccino I had in Delhi with friends and sometimes alone with the memory of the past days in Kolkata. I remember for the first time I played guitar inside Barista contaminating the strings with the smell of cappuccino.
Last month, at Arambagh, I went to a small coffee shop and asked for a cup of coffee. After a long sleep I desperately needed a cup of strong coffee with two-three cigarettes in the evening. But I felt really helpless when the shop-owner in a harsh voice (contrasted to the decency and gentleness of CCD boys) replied negatively.
My wife also loves cappuccino. She mainly loves it because I love it. She wanted me to buy a cappuccino-maker. One day she tried to make some coffee and offered me being confident enough on her recipe. I had that coffee and to my surprise… she did a wonderful job! I looked at her eyes: they were glittering with joy and love seeing cheer on my face. I discovered her as a new entity, - not a girl this time but an efficient woman who takes care of the entire household successfully. I thanked her in my mind as she saved my money from buying a cappuccino-maker. I said… I love you!
A cup of cappuchino at the open air CCD n puffs along wid it.. a heavenly feeling in itself!!
ReplyDeleteThey say a girl who makes perfect coffee makes a great woman for life.. I must say you are lucky to have 'her' as your wife!!!
btw.. while reading your post I went to the memories of my CCD visits wid my boyfriend!!
God bless you both and I wish love grows and prospers in your life with coffee and more.....
@sangita- thnx dear!
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