Café in Peru

The café had a unique ambience. The counter was set up like a bar, as if it were indeed a bar before, now renovated. The place was dim and smelled strongly of coffee beans. He ordered a Latte, and to pretend to enjoy himself, he took out his copy of "Before the Coffee Gets Cold". He glanced over at the counter and saw a girl reading the very same book. He had definitely seen her before... she was there on his flight from Delhi, and he had found her looking familiar at the conference that had taken place the day before.

He decided to head up there. "It would be nice to interact with a person outside of work", he thought.
"Excuse me?" he spoke up. "I'm Dhruv Arya, I feel like I've seen you before and oh, reading the same book too!" He chuckled and showed the cover of his book.
She smiled back at him. "Oh, hi Dhruv, I'm Maya. Maya Arora." She was neither too excited nor too intimidated by the sudden interruption. "I saw you yesterday at the conference. Great speech! How long have you been representing India in the United Nations?"
He found her exciting already. She knew about him and was eager to talk as well. "6 years and counting. What about you? I've never seen you in any conferences before."

"Well, I am not a delegate, that's why. I am a journalist, working at The Times of India, and this week I am covering for a friend. Otherwise, you'd see my names in climate and social activism columns, and the Times Editorial on your lucky days." Maya said, concluding with a certain look on her face, as if she had realised how talkative she was being, she took a quick sip of coffee. Dhruv didn't mind at all; if it weren’t for her, that afternoon would be as dull as any other.

He was careful and quick about picking the next subject. If he asked her about her work at the newspaper, it would be too professional, and the enjoyment of talking to her would cease. If he asked her about her flight or her plans, it would turn into small talk. He did not want it to be small, or too professional, or too personal. So he asked, "Journalism, that's interesting! How'd you get here?" The question had its effect. As soon as you ask a person about their journey, they switch to storytelling mode. Maya started hers- "Well, I've always loved reading, since when, I cannot even remember. I fell in love with stories about wars, how wars affected people, futuristic robots and inventions taking over the world, and how that affected people, bad governments and systems, and how they affected people. Oh, I admired that so much that I started to see ways in which it was happening to our own world! I wanted to write too. You know, how you admire something so much that you want to create something like it... I wanted to talk to real people, listen to their stories and give them the right words, so that they could be seen and heard."

"That's really inspiring, Maya. I'll read your work. I am sure it will be eye-opening."

"Where will you read my work? I have not written anything of that sort, Dhruv."

"But, are you not a journalist? I'm sure I can find a copy of The Times before my next flight."

"Yes, yes, I am a journalist. But I have never had that. I have covered stories from all around the world, but I have never sat down and talked to a refugee of war, or a victim of crime or discrimination, about their life. I have never thought about a story. I think I found plenty, but never actually wrote anything substantial. Newspaper columns last only a day. There are hundreds of them; a news piece is not something that people remember and connect with. At The Times, I just write what I see. They are facts. So many other journalists see what I see and write about the same things as I do. I never get to show the world what I feel. Dhruv, pray you get to read a book by Maya Arora one day. I am sorry, today is not that day." Maya fidgeted with her cup. She seemed distracted, but not disappointed.

"Hey Maya", Dhruv spoke up, "I will look forward to that day."

She smiled a little. "Thanks. Tell me, what do you like about that book?"

"I got this before my flight. Just something to occupy the time. I picked it up because it is set in Japan. I love Japan, by the way. Been there a lot of times, mostly on business."

"Hmm, Japan. It has such a unique culture. I haven't been there, but I have had sushi many times. Does that count?" They laughed as Maya continued. "So, can you speak Japanese? I have heard that it is a very difficult language to master."

"You're right, it is. And no, I am not even bad at Japanese."

"Oh, doesn't matter. Have you had Saké? Have you been to a Shrine? Please tell me you wore a Kimono and took a picture!"

"Why? You want a laugh?"

"No! Come on! I just thought it would be...um... funny."

"Hah, okay. And, no, never did all those things. There was always a conference to speak at or delegates to lobby with. So, I never tried anything new. It wouldn’t even be that meaningful with still having work to worry about, right? And whenever vacation hits, I just feel like going home to my parents rather than hopping onto another flight. I suppose what I love about Japan is the thought that someday, I might just have the time for those things. In any country, for that matter. All I could ever think of, before I had this job, was that I wanted to travel the world. I have been to places, yet any time I had to spare, I spent it in a Café, drinking coffee."

"Oh, well, you can brag about it now, South America is famous for coffee. And by the way, you haven't even touched yours. How can you be so bad at relaxing?" They chuckled.

"You're so right. And as much as I have enjoyed talking to you, Maya, it's about time for me to leave." Dhruv looked at his watch. It had been more than half an hour already.

"Oh, same actually. Where are you headed to after this?"

"Nothing much. I have a flight to Delhi tomorrow, so probably packing. You?"

"Dhruv, you are in Peru, AND you have time to spare till tomorrow. Why don't you... In fact, why don't WE both go out there and do what we have been meaning to all our lives!"

"Are you kidding, Maya? It can't be that simple. I can't see Peru in a day. You can't write a book in a day either."

"What if it IS that simple! Think, Dhruv Arya, think. One sunset spent well, exploring and sightseeing in Peru. Isn't it better than having no story to tell about your favourite country to a stranger you meet someday? Okay, here's an offer. You go out there and find something. Even if you don't enjoy it. And I will talk to someone, ask them about their life story. I try, you try. Here, take my card, find the perfect Peruvian restaurant, and give me a call. We will have dinner and discuss our respective evenings. Okay? OKAY?"

"Yes, yes, okay." Dhruv couldn't believe this. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

Maya was correct; it did not have to be so hard. He imagined himself walking in the streets of a strange country and enjoying every bit of it. He was excited. It didn't have to be 'All or Nothing'. He could start exploring, living right away. Just outside the door of that cafe, where Maya was now headed, was the life he had been waiting to live. That life was always his. Yes, he had a choice. And he decided to make it. But before that, he made a run towards the door, and screamed at the top of his lungs- "Hey! Maya! Did you just ask me out?"