I walked towards the ‘Hole in the wall cafe’ in Koramangala. It has no diners, except for a young couple. A couple of years younger to me. They look cute. The guy is making futile attempts to feed her baked beans with his spoon. The girl is resisting, shy and embarrassed. Public display of affection seemed to bother her.
My heart warmed up as they continued to talk, smile and giggle.
And then, the girl’s lip line narrowed. Looks like the guy said something wrong. Or the girl picked something wrong. He got defensive and started to argue. Why can’t he just apologise? Anyways, he is eating his baked beans now. And the girl her’s. There is a public display of anger, each of them exchanging fiery looks.
I was about to leave but the spoons clinked.
The couple started to talk again. I don’t know who apologised first, but clearly someone did. The guy again tried to feed her baked beans. And she ate them now. A few beans gulped and they are smiling and giggling again.
I blushed looking at the couple. When I tried to walk into the cafe, an old mason interrupted. “This is closed, go to that building”, he said pointing at the new and bigger ‘Hole in the wall’ cafe just next to the old one I’m facing.
I turned back to look at the couple but they disappeared. Tables, chairs, spoons, there is no sign of them. I could only see cement and bricks. The old cafe is under renovation.
I walked into the old cafe, dragged a stool near where the couple sat, and sat down - reminiscing the baked beans, the failed PDA attempts, the fiery looks of her anger, and the bliss of a resolved conflict.