Brewed With Love
She was a gorgeous damsel, in her friend’s eyes. Little did they know about her alter-ego. The hundreds of photographs adorning the wall of her room, camouflaged bouquets of memories. The sun loved to peek through the jet black strands of her hair, as Niharika stood like Narcissus every morning, trapped in the vortex of reminisced memories. Today was no different for she was lost in her own world. One that was made of memoirs inscribed onto the parchments, of the numerous trips she had embarked upon. She emptied the neatly torn pouch into the coffee brewer. The wooden rack, had packets neatly aligned. Coffee beans had always been her souvenir, from the stalls enroute to Batasia Loop in Darjeeling, to the hill-grown beans while birdwatching the Andaman tribes. She sat down on the turquoise duvet that lined her bed, with the mug in her hands. From the aroma of the cappuccino, she could infer that the beans were from the land, where backwaters are looked upon by coconut g...