I took a seat on my usual table
My tea giving its own delight and tranquil
I gazed across the road and back in the shop
Observing the people around, both retro and hip hop.
As I riffled through the pages of Atlas Shrugged,
The couple in corner kissed and hugged.
While a flabbergasted old lady boggled,
Most around either ignored or ogled.
Right in the middle sat a young businessman
Wiping his forehead in continuous anticipation
While some the rowdy striplings giggled
and squabbled creating a pandemonium.
The lady sitting on the other end
Seemed to struggle with her new life
Anxiously, she padded her little toddler
Possibly, waiting for the newbie father.
Every table was a part of some unique story
And amidst all the commotion; they all were linked
Every single moment spent in that place
Was a testimony to someone’s journey and race.
There were people from life’s every phase
Each with a dream on their visible face
And as my mind bloated with thoughts untold
I realized, my hot tea had turned cold.
---Sriram
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