The Window of Longing - 3. Green tea Latte Please

I came across a food delivery advertisement while going about my semi-productive quarantine routine. I was excited at the prospect of being able to order from a franchise that my mother and were frequent patrons of. Unfortunately, my brief elation was thwarted by the cruel realisation that I was outside their delivery radius. Needless to say, I felt pricks of torment well in my eyes as part of me longed to experience their food and drink again, as this would somehow make things feel more normal.

An achy feeling persists in my chest. Never did I think the sociability that propelled humanity thus far could just as easily be the means to its end and yet somehow I still desperately grasp at elusive strings of hope. Hope that one day we'll return to better days, once again bathing in the barbaric light of our corrupted Elysium.

Where is my mind? I wonder. Six feet away, it dances the macabre with humanity in one hand and trust in the other. Intimacy becomes the jealous onlooker and I remain neither here nor there. At the time, I was a college going student instead of a member of the 'online academia society' and my mother a nurse. In between our busy lives we had both somehow managed to spend the odd afternoon together patrolling the mall for an hour or two with the drive and vigour of determined shoppers, although not looking for anything specific to begin with. My favourite part of our mini excursions was when we used to stop by the restaurant before heading home.

I can still remember the warmth and liveliness of the staff and customers, the sound of soothing music softly blaring in the background, the amalgamation of chatter that breezed through the air as we were directed to our seats, which we always insisted would be at the back as those chairs were the most comfortable and were far away from the other patrons so not as to feel too overwhelmed. My mother would take great joy in getting us a table for two at a booth, with an extra if my aunt was visiting that week.

Occasionally, we would hear snippets of conversation from each table, some were serious, others playful and witty. Looking around you would see various types of people including the businessman or businesswoman on his or her lunch break. At the time, I didn't realise how much restaurants were cultural, socio-economic hubs that formed an avid part of our society. Regardless of my epiphany, at the end of the day, they were just normal people that were going about what was then their daily lives.

All these things seem like delusion to me now. A gross reality that I can no longer be part of. A graveyard of laughs and cries, failures and triumphs wait hauntingly outside. The soul becomes restless, unable to find solitude. In memoria of earlier days, I vaguely remember the sweet aromatic earthiness of the velvety matcha green tea latte...