Every time some one has to go places or has to come back home he/she could always count on me and a couple of my pals. You see we liked to have coffee at so if theres a wait invovled theres a cuppa coffee involved. And India hasn’t yet been totally swarmed by the starbucks or the dunkin donuts yet thankfully because honestly no other coffee can beat the taste of the mysore/madras coffee or even the regular coffee machine coffee from India.
But not always was it for the coffee that we would go to drop someone or pick em up. It was also for the junta at the place. Ever been to the airport as a spectator. Its kind of fun to check out all the babes and the crowd that hangs around. Some Moms crying some, wives crying, some kids smiling some Dads with worried face, Some aunts hugging monty from UK and some tina from NJ smiling at her cousins and their friends wanting to date the amriki gal, some wives checking others lukkhas like us. Ok the last one never happened, how I wish, but rest of it all almost common emotions, new faces everytime commom emotions.
The last cuppa coffee that I enjoyed was 2 years back when I was at the airport makin my people cry and worried while me and friends were still checking out the crowd sipping coffee until I realised I had to check in. In about 4 months Ill try the piece de la resistance the coffee machine in India.
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