I woke up with a puffy nose and made some coffee, and sat to read my words from yesterday. As it usually happens, last night’s malaise had followed me into a new day. Then, it occurred to me that I had to leave for an early breakfast with a friend, so I washed up and left. While waiting, I ordered a cup of ginger, honey and lemon tea, hoping to resolve this little situation. It would have been alright too, but then just across from me was the most pompous and raucous bunch of people sitting. It was not that they were happy and, therefore, loud—the loudness of happiness is different. And while I was not intent on eavesdropping, their conversation managed to reach me regardless. But then, I believe you cannot eavesdrop on a public spectacle. The little I managed to hear before I blocked this noise on an otherwise serene Sunday morning was enough to tell me there was a potpourri of insecurities on that table.
It is not uncommon to come across this particular archetype of people, and there is little we can do about it. Even if there were some societal solution, I believe it would not begin at Sunday breakfast in a cafe. Thus, I quietly chipped away at my breakfast and continued to lose myself in the verdant interplay of trees and branches right outside the window. I noticed bees buzzing about the leaves, and I recalled how this tree blossoms with beautiful red flowers during spring. All that buzzing has a purpose, and we do not see it come to fruition until months have passed. Regardless of how loud or soft people are, perhaps, they have their own purpose, and if not all, then most of us have some part to play in this world. Or maybe, I was giving too much credit to terribly rude behaviour by leaning too deep into the metaphor.
But then, it was a sunny weekend morning, and I was sick, and one tends to be forgiving on days such as this. I continued to have my breakfast, and I continued waiting for my friend.