The Magic Mug >Milk and Coffee

Photo Apr 05, 10 48 44 PM

He sipped the coffee of the day. It was mostly milk with a hint of coffee. The black powder that, for years, had him refreshed even by the smell of it, is now bad for his stomach. He missed its taste, so he added some to his hot milk. He was working on something urgent for tomorrow’s exam. The coffee got cold, but he still drank it anyway. The Magic Mug had not worked it’s magic since he had Jasmine Tea. He did not give it any thought since then. He just drank and went on with his day.

But today, it threw something at him, yet again; something he did not expect.

The quarrel started when his father took a stance against him. He was just trying to help and they (father and co.) had a negative reaction to what he was doing. He was trying to do something nice for them, and they reacted with sarcasm. It was sad. He wished they had told him they did not want what he proposed rather than go with the flow and being relieved when the plan doesn’t fall through. That translates into how much they did not appreciate him. What if they were kidding? That did not cross his mind. He waves off his hand to them and walks away. The uproar starts. He disrespected them with his attitude. Normally, he would walk away and sit with his anger until he finds the best distraction, becomes passive about everything, and forces his feelings and impulses to die down consciously. However, he knows unconsciously, they are there, and growing in magnitude.

But the Magic Mug does not allow you normal days. Normal was long gone when he first sipped his coffee today. This time around, he walked away, but half way out, he turns back. Standing up for himself, he confronts them about everything. The arguments go back and forth. Voices are louder than normal. Feelings are flowing out more than normal. It was all more than normal. In the end, this is why he is here. This is why he stayed around. This is why the voices in his head say ‘run’, which makes it even harder to stay and deal. The quarrel started and ended with the sole purpose of being a quarrel. They don’t quarrel as much as they should. Quarreling seems to be the only time they could share their feelings and their anxiousness. It would be nice to share them in a calmer way, but sharing them is better than not at all. At least that’s what he felt. After it all ended, he teared for a little while, thanks to the biology of the body. Otherwise, he tried to stop the tears from falling.

Then he felt a sudden happiness.

A happiness that only reveals itself after you have unlocked something in you, something that you have been keeping in a  locked box in the depth of the deepest ocean. After all, no matter how much black coffee you put with your milk, if you have enough of it, the milk that is, you are bound to have a whiter drink than expected.


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