A coffee shop is an ideal setting for a writer’s wandering mind. What could rival a cup of steaming hot coffee and a nook in the warm surroundings of an old world coffee shop. It’s like a dream come true for a writer looking for peace of mind and stories.

It has been my experience that stories come to us in the most unusual ways. I try to write a story, cook up circumstances but never reach anywhere with it and then at the most unusual of places a story would come floating of it’s own accord – in bits of conversation one overhears, in the expression of a lover waiting for more than an hour, in the sweaty brows of a guard who stands all day to bring home some joy. I have found stories in the strangest of places and in strangest of circumstances and these are not just stories. These are hot cups of memories that give me something to write about. Like the other day at a coffee shop when I was being just a writer trying to read stories in people who thronged the place.

I am not one to easily go out of house, lest  go out alone. But it was one of those days when one wants to spend time in a different place with oneself. So I headed over to a small coffee shop nearby. It’s not one of those hot shot cafes where the coffee is not worth the penny one spends. It’s a place where the owner still serves coffee made in those heavy weight coffee machine that remind me of coffee machines at weddings back home. It’s a deserved dose of nostalgia. I ordered some white pasta and a cup of hot coffee and sat in corner watching cars pass by.

It would be wishful thinking to say that it was raining. Gosh, if only it had rained. What else could a writer’s heart and soul desire? A silent corner in a coffee shop, a cup of steaming coffee and rain. It wasn’t raining so I decided to make it rain in my imagination. I grabbed a tissue and began to doodle with my pencil. I made lots of dark clouds and it was about to rain when a noise on the adjacent table caught my attention.

A little girl was squabbling with her mother. She had two pigtails and was in her school uniform. She had a broken pencil in one hand and a small drawing book in another. Her mother looked tired and was here to grab a quick bite.

“Mommy I have to draw.”

“Yes, dear wait till you get home.”

“No I want to draw now.”

“How will you? You broke your pencil and you lost your sharpener! Wait till we get home.”

I looked at the disappointed face of the little girl.

“Here, you can draw with this.”

“Thank you.” Her face lit up instantly.

“What were you drawing?” She asked me.


She moved near me and looked at the tissue I was drawing on.

“Let’s make it rain!” She said looking up to me with a wide grin on her face.

That is how I found another story, a heartwarming story.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.



  1. Hey Anisha!

    I follow technical blogs usually but I stumbled upon this piece of yours and I must say it is pretty impressive. You are natural and I give you that. I look forward for your future posts. Keep Blogging.

    Liked by 1 person

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