By Aalam Singh Batth.
Having a coffee in a brewery is one of the moments in my life which made me wonder, “I wonder, how life got me here?” I found myself in such a predicament as I was drinking cold-brew in a brewery. At one point of time I was taken-a-back from the irony of the situation that when life gave me the opportunity to go to a brewery, I somehow convinced them to make me a cold-brew. When life gives you a brewery, make a cold-brew? Right? I honestly hoped that I could get away with the awkwardness between me and waiter, if I could have just said, “Oh, I thought a brewery makes brewed coffee?” But he knew damn well and so do I, that this was definitely not my first time in a brewery and I for sure for the sake of everything that is pure and evil knew that I would never get a cold-brew in a brewery. I should have just simply shrugged off the awkwardness by simply making an Irish exit but it was raining cats and dogs outside. Obviously I didn’t want to get wet in the rain whilst being chased by some stray dogs or cats. So, I took my chance, and eventually found myself having drunk thoughts while being sober over a glass of allegedly freshly brewed cold-brew. I’ve eventually come to a conclusion that most things in life are not fated but its just a random permutation and combinations of a multitude of events coinciding all together to give you a moment that makes you think, “How did I get here?” Given my Doctorate in the field of Overthinking, I somehow managed to disappoint myself (I’ll overthink about my future in this field later), I decided not to think about it and decided that what mattered was that somehow I got to this moment in life and it would make one good lore, to tell over conversation in a brewery, with a brew obviously, brewed-coffee on paper for official purposes. So, how did I get to this moment?
Firstly, I don’t like getting wet, I only like getting wet when I want to get wet, like taking a shower etc. Secondly, I had an important appointment for a thing which many people want in life, hence the appointment and no walk-ins. Thirdly but not the last, I found myself in the middle of Mumbai, at the peak of monsoons, when all the western disturbances come together and make everyone in Mumbai get wet without their consent. Being prepared for all the right reasons going by the rule of thumb I got to the appointment centre 30 minuted before hand, being very conscious of the typical Bombay traffic in the middle of this un-consented wetness, life had more in store for me when later at night I managed covered 4km in 50 minutes after waiting 30 minutes for a taxi. Which the ‘bhakts’ of Mumbai or ‘Mumbaikers’ would proudly say that this is nothing, whilst establishing somewhat supremacy over a vice and not a virtue. After being forced into buying an overpriced umbrella with the opportunist capitalists practicing their trade in the streets of the business capital of India, I booked a cab which was booked in a minute and I reached the Brewery in 5 minutes but little did I know that later in the day I would be lucky enough to experience the one thing to experience in Mumbai, Traffic in a swimming pool that is just about to fill. I reached the brewery with the over-priced umbrella completely drench in all the unshed sorrows courtesy of the un-consenting wetness I was just exposed to. The shop was called something along the lines of Patistery Taproom or something, so in my defence I could have mistaken it for a cafe, I mean it was pink from the outside and had floral patterns on its sign board. But what my eyes saw, the moment was a perfect example of Juxtaposition of two starkly opposite concepts of floral ambience mixed with the elements of a perfect biker gang styled man cave. I looked like a toddler who looked like a man, who just entered into a brewery dreaming of a nice coffee and some croissants, which was true. I got seated and an extremely versatile menu of all the spirits in the world was tossed towards me along with the a very well crafted floral themed food menu. To be very honest I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw a huge jacked up, hairy, muscular biker gang member full of tattoos, wearing a pink dress with a tiara ordering orange infused Mai Tai’s for the rest of the gang. After skimming past the drinks menu multiple times and not finding anything to don with coffee, I asked the waiter if they had a ‘coffee menu’, to which his eyes blinked twice, his CPU short circuited and I could see a ‘loading sign’ appear on his forehead, after finding better internet connection he told me, he would ‘look into it’. I saw him go to a very isolated counter at the end of the brewery, which to my surprise did turn out to be their so called coffee station, which I assume had been untouched since coffee was introduced in India. The waiter was conversing with a guy who was having a good time scrolling reels on his phone, I could see the smile fade into a frown on his face when his century old vacation at his place of work came to an end. There was a customer who wanted coffee? Not, the coffee liquor, but just plain old coffee. I could see him scratching his head and fumbling through a drawer in the counter from which he produced a half torn and folded fully antique coffee menu of the brewery. The menu was not bad, I was even asked about my milk allergies even though I ordered a cold brew. I selected the cold-brew because why not and asked for its price adjusted to the current inflation rates and ordered the coffee. I could see the struggle in the eyes of the in-house barista as he made a cold-brew in a brewery. The cold-brew was decent, I am pretty sure he just mixed coffee in lukewarm water and topped it with some ice-cubes, instead of leaving it to brew overnight. Looking back at this I think I’ve been more obsesses with the traffic in Mumbai rather than the pure comedic irony of having a cold-brew in a brewery.
I guess true stories are not the ones following a general well structured cliche of events, nor the ones that are overly exaggerated. True stories are simply a mere permutation and combination of events that somehow lead us to a moment in time which simply makes us wonder, “I wonder how life got me here?”
