The
lake view restaurant was costly. I used to walk past it in my evening or
morning walks and sometimes during the noon under the shades of large beautiful
trees, especially on the weekends. And sometimes I would enter the restaurant
in some special occasions because of the serenity and aroma playing around the
entire atmosphere and the captivating view of the soothing lake with crystal
clear water mirroring the color blasts of the tree line; in the special and
magical effects through the glass window of the restaurant.
During
the pandemic lock down for covid 19, the restaurant incurred a huge loss too
and it was apparent in its look after the year-long closure with hardly any
maintenance and the massive job cut. And it remained closed for months even
after the withdrawn of lockdown for a much needed renovation work, which paved
way to another amazing window to earn some more revenue by introducing an improvised lake view café
on the open space by the lake. It appeared to be more flexible and convenient
for the walkers who happen to pass by the restaurant all around the day, partly
because of the open tranquility and mostly because of the reduced price
comparing to that of the main building.
And
it was the reason why I became a more regular frequenter to the café to spend
some more moments under the shades of nature after the regular workouts. And
the coffee was really good; always freshly brewed from the finest quality of
well roasted beans.
The
man was in his late 80s, and he was looking more aged with his thin, devastated
and delicate health: burdened with the shredded hopes in this stage of his life;
and torn with the burden of struggles for sustenance. In an age-old ragged and
faded shirt, he was quivering with a bundle of jute bags hanging from both his
weakened shoulders. As a street hawker he sells those bags to the reluctant
customers, mainly seeking a satisfaction in winning the bargain: so careful to
let him get away with hardly any profit margin.
‘Can
I have some water, please, just a glass of water?’ He requested in a timid tone
defeated by time.
The
waiters got startled with the sudden and unexpected appearance of such an
unwelcomed guest in the terrace. And a senior among them, himself in an old
age, handed him a bottle of water to shovel him away as fast as possible.
What
we normally do in a situation like this is to ignore in a magnificent silence,
sometimes with a camouflaged gesture of disgust playing around our frowning
eyebrows, thinking how could these sort of guys can trespass into our sweet
moments. Or with a delicate style to slide our sights out of the things
unseeable, in a fragile attempt to sugarcoat our guilty conscience thinking
that he will either survive anyway or will go beyond the necessity of surviving
all the way.
But
apparently, he needed some calories to consume; with contrast to the regular
customers of the café who spend hours to burn their calories and then add some
as part of the refreshments and I was probably one like them, seeking some
pace-less moment of solace in the reckless racing for life. He was quivering in
hunger and reached a point to fell down on earth anytime. And still his burnt
out dignity shuttered his mouth to not ask for some food instead of a glass of
water. But, you can easily get away with it by putting you in the dilemma of
noticing and not noticing; whatever is comfortable for you. And whatever was
comfortable for Philip, the wealthy husband of Rosemary Fell.
The
first thing that strike my head was how we possibly can bring a positive change to the destiny
of these kind of people: burdened with the age and ravished off their rights to
the commonwealth society; the carcass of a circus.
And
then Katherine Mansfield’s short story, ‘A Cup of Tea’ flashed back to my vision.
Answering
to the appalling request for alms enough to buy a cup of tea, Rosemary Fell took
Miss Smith to her plush house in the posh area. The image of the poor, pathetic girl
somehow matched with the hungry old man. The girl apparently in quiver and
shiver for hunger and winter, was asking for enough alms to buy a cup of tea.
Her condition was pathetic enough to drive Rosemary’s mind away off purchasing a painted
ceramic box in a posh antique shop. And she drove her instead to her luxurious
palace as a harbinger of destiny vowing to change the fate of the fretted girl.
She was certain of her heart-felt intention to do good and stood irresolute to
her husband’s diplomatic denial. She fed her well and kept her good vibe intact
as long as her husband tricked her with jealousy and a sense of insecurity by
praising the beauty of the poor girl.
With
the slightest risk of our fortune, we back away from all those well wishes to
change the destiny of people, to show them how good-hearted we really are. We forget about our preaching on how a strong hope can change their life and make them land onto their dreams.
Most of us can’t change the society. But we can at least change a particular moment if we are
yet to master the art of looking away dodging our sleeping senses. I know I
can’t do big; but, it’s not good enough reason to force myself away from doing
the least thing I can do. And as I myself was not in either of the categories
of the doers and the ignorers and as I really didn’t belong to the class who would think of their budgets inside the main building or outside in the
terrace, I asked a young waiter to come close. He knew me well as a recent
addition to café for the love of a good cup of coffee.
I
asked him to get the old man to a vacant corner table, which usually remains
unchosen and unoccupied for a hard angle of the beautiful view. I ordered a set
menu combining fried rice, chicken and vegetables. And of course, the action
was not cordially welcomed by the guy in charge of the café. At least this is
what I can ignore. But the way the hungry old man was grabbing the food served
was something I couldn’t bear.
Leaving
behind the half-finished cup of my favorite coffee, I paid the bill with a tip;
bigger than I can afford happily and far lesser than what the other frequenters
usually take back to their wallet from the changes.
