Yesterday was intense.
It was a multiple coffee kind of day
that even my coffee needs a coffee. My fingers never stop typing words; I was able
to finish 3 articles and edit 2 reports. My brain tricked me that I have lots
of energy so later that day I attended an event.
As the day finally comes to an end, I
was completely exhausted. My energy sapped out of me. Last stop before heading
home, I visited a little café few blocks away from my work place to grab a
medium Caramel Macchiato.
Thursdays for me are always the best
day to visit this local café because the crowd is a mix of working and artsy
people who seem productive even when they’re just hanging out. I also loved the
place; the interior of the café is eclectic with mismatched couches and chair
as well as vintage objects on modern shelves. Because of the absence of Wi-Fi, the
café in vibes an atmosphere of a traditional coffee shop as it encourages
conversation and some old fashion newspaper and book reading.
So while having coffee yesterday and
catching up on my reading, a man sitting adjacent to the counter commented: “Seems
like you found your little nook here”. Before I could react, he jumped up from
his table with his coffee and moved to join me. He was tall with neatly cut hair, stubble
beard and small kind eyes.
Though without invitation, he sat down
and introduced himself as “Ivan”. He looked at me keenly as though he knew me a
long time ago. So I racked my brain for a minute or two, trying to recall his
name and where I met him; but I could not remember anything at all. I stared at
him and with an effort, I went on innocently, “You resemble the man in an
advertisement...umm”.
As if he read my thoughts, he said
quietly, “I’m Ivan your friend in pre-school, remember?”
That revelation left me speechless, I
never thought that time would come in which I’d see myself literally playing
the part of Sara (Kate Beckinsale) in Serendipity. Well, to get you started,
Ivan was my close friend way back in kindergarten. His family moved in the
United States when we were in sixth grade. The night before he set out, he
proposed to me and promised to write and return. But he never did. So seeing
him again in a secluded local coffee shop after more than twenty years of not
hearing from him is kind of surprising.
Well, Ivan and I talked about life and
what we are doing; I have learned that Ivan is well traveled as he is a pilot
in one of the best airlines in the world. He showed me a couple of pictures
he’d taken in places he had been to. We talked about his work of how
challenging and exciting it was but at the same time tiring because of the
unpredictable work hours, long duty periods, and circadian disruptions as well
as insufficient sleep. He also told me about his daughter of how beautiful she
was with big blue eyes and jet black hair but he never mentioned about his
wife.
Our conversation was natural, deep and
insightful skipping the necessary pleasantries. There was still this effortless
chemistry like the kind we had when we were kids.
As the antiquated café turns dark and vaguely
disquieting with the flickering light of the table’s votives, Ivan asked me a
question, “What do you think of the phrase “what if?”
His question made me introspective. Not
sure of why he would ask me that question but I answered if from a point of
view of a writer. As I continued, “For writers, the phrase “what if” is the
first step to generating story ideas like an intriguing question that opens up to
infinite possibilities transforming the mundane world into imaginative realm…”
As I was about to end my
excruciatingly long hypothetical explanation on the phrase “what if”, I threw
back the question to him and he simply responded, “I was thinking, What if we ended up together? What if I
did write to you and pursue you instead”
There was a long silence that neither one
of us wanted to break. Both of us turned quiet and reflective. What is good
about face to face conversation is you hear the inflection, and you see the
emotion. I could tell from the way he said things that he had been wallowing in
hatred for so long that he had forgotten what love felt like. He must have a failed
marriage or is separated or in the process of separating. I am not sure but one
thing I am sure is his marriage is on the rocks.
As if planned to happen exactly at
that moment: the cafeteria played Nora Jones’ don’t know why, right on cue, I asked him: “Do you remember what
you used to say to me whenever I flunked my exams?”
He answered with a faint smile, “Yeah…
that things happened for a reason and there is always a chance to make things
right.”
I nodded and continued “Well, like in
a writer’s point of view, “What if”,
is a phrase that opens doors of possibilities. We can get carried away because
of the promising adventure and compelling angle of story but part of writing
process is also to choose the right possibilities and save the story from being
wrecked”.
He quickly picked up with a comment, “If
it is meant to be. It will be.” I nodded. He also nodded with unspoken
agreement.
As the cafe is about to close, Ivan
and I bid our goodbyes.
“I hope my daughter will be like you
because I named her after you” he said proudly.
I smiled “I hope she grows up to be a
woman with vision and better than I”.
As we parted ways and I watched him
disappear in the pavement. I remember our conversation nearly word for word and
then, I realized that what we had at the café was one of the absolute best and
deepest conversations I have had. ‘What if’,
two beautiful words with endless possibilities but these words also serve as a precaution
if it calls one to sell your soul for one fleeting moment. Well, I have proven that we don’t
meet people by accident. People are meant to cross our path for a reason. And sometimes
the things we can’t change end up changing us to be a better person.
One
thing I have also realized is that “Serendipity” happens just like how serendipitous
our meeting was.
