I couldn’t think beyond coffee for today’s theme. Mugs of hot chocolate and glasses of mulled wine did swirl around for a short while but I kept returning to coffee. Maybe because coffee is akin to comfort for me. From the time I can remember, I have woken up to the smell of fresh filter coffee wafting through our house. Whenever I fell sick during my childhood, my grandmother would give me half a tumbler of black coffee to soothe my fever-induced chills. Who knew about caffeine and kids then?!
Much later, when Coffee Day set up their first outlet on Brigade Road, my grandfather, father, and I, all coffee lovers, would frequent it every Saturday. It was the coolest thing in town then, and we loved it. It became a ritual for us. Dad and grandfather would pick me up from school. We would have a coffee at Coffee Day, and would head to Gangaram’s to browse books, and finally arrive for a very late lunch at home much to my mother’s annoyance.
Today, I make my own filter coffee. And if I am at home, I never miss the chance to have a cup of rich coffee brewed to perfection by Dad, and endlessly discuss the various aspects of coffee with him. We are no longer fascinated by coffee chains, and grandfather is no more. But the aroma of coffee holds so many memories. It is comfort, and it is home.