How many of you e’er talked over a cup of coffee in your life? I dare say, most of you – on zillions of clips, discussing zillions of affairs. What if I paint the coffee cup’s voice for a variety? Yes! You scan it aright…. THE COFFEE CUP, a frail porcelain, with a cylindric body, curvy hand grip, basking majestically on the window sill; savoring a panoramic view of the alfresco. Oh oh… what am I making? I made a commitment to loan my tongue to the cup for a limited time.
Over to coffee cup:
I am not hither for an interview so I am not carrying any CV. I am a bare coffee mug (height: 6 inches, build: cylindrical, wall thickness: 6mm, diam: 88 mm, complexion: ??????) I am aware, this is not required but FYI. All you dazzlingly beautiful women and handsome men, please do not fall in love with me conning my measures. Ladies! Pardon me. I am already betrothed to a cute little tea cup. And men, you must be knowing by now that I am a male and I am not “36-24-36”. Others, I beg off! I have not devoted any idea to it. (No umbrage intended).
I am imparted a vox for an abbreviated length, hence would let you know the things that matter. Arriving flat to my likes and dislikes…………. I love balmy lips adjoining my rim, particularly the brightly lipsticked ones. I detest smoke dried and chapped lips because they veritably scathe me. More than the warmth of a hot coffee, I love being caressed by clean manicured hands. Men, do not take me wrong. I do not mind if you deal me gently, sparing your stern hands for other intent. Only I hate, you pinking me with your nasty fingers on my body wall. Do realize that I am no playfellow. I cannot abide by its jarring noise.
Talking about the deeper things, the thing that resides in me. Coffee? Nah! Coffee lodges in me but does not make me.
- It disappoints me to see my body wall tattooed with cartoons, quotes, weird sketches, your face, his face, her face, etc. Although I am signified for coffee, you imbibe beer, coke, whiskey and what not in disguise but that is within concavity. The quotes and weird faces on my convexity? They are seeable and readable. I just cannot fend this. My body and your nameplate on it? Just unjust! Can you ideate “Coffee Cup” etched on your body?
- Alike you, I as well feel. I experience a burning pain while you relish your steaming cup of coffee. I am not prompting you to renounce coffee. I am just giving my honest self to genuine eyes. Please do not entertain any guilt. I am civilized enough to understand your love for coffee. I hold no ill will of any sort. My anguish wears thin beholding the satisfactory smile dancing on your coffee kissed lips, discovering your abstruse aaaaaaahhhs and hmmmms that you make while your lips still compacted against my rim.
- The justest thing about me- I neither preferred my love (little teacup) and my friends (other coffee cups) based on their physical appearances nor I discriminated anyone based on their make or monetary value. I hire pride in looking thru the lens of heart. I know this is amusing you a little but I do have a heart and it beats. When in doubt, ask my little tea cup. She knows how my heart hop-skips seeing her.
- You call it CONFIDENTIAL sharing your dingy and dark arcana in front me. LOL. You never guessed I would be reading your closed book. I took heed your tales of love, hate and treachery but never dropped my opinion any time. I witnessed your crimsoned cheeks over the proposal and also your wept eyes over the betrayal. I mutely contained your frustration and vexation ‘cause all I wanted was you being unbothered. It never mattered to me how many times you emptied me.
- My biggest fear- I am scared to death when I am palmed by young and impish, arrogant teen, scorned woman and scurrilous man. They might flap down me in any moment.
Where am I? Oh great! I am still intact and one piece. You see, my heart slumps to abysmal depths when you place me on the edges. I hate being in such states of affairs because I do not own up an insurance. Please understand that I cannot tell you “please put me safe” and hearing me is not your cup of coffee. Now, do not start editing me. I am aware of the original phrase “not my cup of tea”. I am mindful that even when I am shattered to pieces on the floor, you will not sigh for me unless I were your favorite cup. The most regretful part would be no one being there to console my weeping little tea cup.
I should slap myself tightly. Why am I sharing my poignancy with you? It’s weird to anticipate your empathy…………… your hands won’t even stretch out from the pockets to wipe your fellow being’s tears.
Enough of my life’s account because it exacts your time and forbearance. I guess, you have no time to listen to others in your busyness and it is unmanageable for you to re-learn the art of patience in your hastiness. Hence, I am better unspoken.