Table for One

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“So you took yourself on a date?”
“Yes.”
“But aren’t you seeing someone?”
“I am.”
“I don’t get you. Did you guys have a fight?”
“No.”
“Is there anything wrong?”
“Not a thing.”
“You’re weird.”
“I know.”

I exit the Whatsapp chat and put my phone down. Sit back and look around. Sitting alone on the central sofa for 5 gives me a clear 360-degree view of people around me.
Two couples on my right. A mother and her daughter on the left. An incessantly loud teenage group in a far side corner. A corporate collective of 3 behind me. And 3 waiters behind the counter with one manager at the billing area.
In a room full of allies and acquaintances, I choose my own company today.
The waiter comes in with a double shot espresso whipped cream and a plate of cookies. All for me. Yes, I’m pampering myself today.
Not because of the lack of company,
But
Because I deserved my own companionship today than anyone else’s.

Eyes stare. Lips mumble. Eyebrows raise. Some shift from their seats.
But I’m at my comfortable best.

Tell me what it takes to lighten up your own porch?
Tell me what it takes to fill the empty vase with your favorite flowers?
Tell me what it takes to climb the ceiling and change that annoying flickering light?
Tell me what it takes to seal your wounds with a kiss?
Tell me what it takes to dress up one random day and look your best?
Tell me what it takes to be, just, happy?

Surprisingly, it only takes YOU.

So I take a sip from my shake, lick the whipped cream with my bare tongue and take a crispy bite of the cookie.

My lips descend into an upward curve as my eyes roll horizontally around the interiors of the posh cafe.
I plug in my headphones and play my track.

“Ho khud se roobaru, mann darpan tak le tu…”
The evening rest, a bliss.
I’m the best person I’ve met in a while.

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Arpita DalwadiWritten by Arpita Dalwadi ·

Writer soul and a lover of classics.
Arpita is a self-admitted movie freak with an upbeat look for everything in life. Non-arguably, she could kill anyone for the last piece of dessert on table. Still a kid at heart, she prefers her Sundays lazy, conversations long and her coffee, black.

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