The stories we never heard

I was in the city before 8:30 am, on a Sunday morning. Only a Sunday, would you be lucky enough to see more buses and less people, more noise and less talks. Well, here I was, hunting for a cafe with unlimited wifi. I knew my love for coffee and new people would take me to places and I was planning to discover the hidden gems, before it’s time to relocate. 

So I hopped on to the bus to West End, one of the most happening suburbs or so you would feel on a Friday night. I must say, this place gives you all the feels and highs even without alcohol. So, the cafe I was supposed to go to was called Avid Reader - sounds like a treat with the utmost combination of old books and fresh coffee. 

For someone like me with a poor sense of direction, I am so glad to be in an era of Google Maps. The bus stopped right outside the cafe, but hey, this wasn’t Avid Reader. I wasn’t so happy about Google Maps anymore and I chose to get in this new place which was giving me good vibes. For that moment, I felt more of a tourist in the place I have called home for the past two years. 

The first thing I did was find a nice spot with the street view, plug point and get WiFi access. Somehow, this place looked familiar. I kept recollecting all the cafes in Brisbane to find some connection. I was sure I am coming to this place for the first time, until a customer came in and asked where the washroom was. And it suddenly clicked. 

My brain worked faster than the Internet and I was back in 2016. I had been here, almost a year back. I had been here before but the setting was different. It was a busy Saturday night and the place was jammed with people rejoicing to good music and more drinks. I was still recovering from homesickness and using food as a reward. And here I was, bonding with a complete stranger, cheering to the fact that we both were lost but at least, we were both here. 

Only if we cared to hear more stories, we would know that behind those happy smiles that we see on social media, there’s a lot more going on. The stories, that we might not take pride in telling people because we don’t want to confess that we are broken. We are all trying our best, our individual best to keep up with life that happened and wake up everyday to make it an ounce better than yesterday. I wish life was more about the real stories than the masked emotions. And if you’re someone going through the mid life crisis or the ‘I haven’t got it all figured out’ phase, please feel free to share your story with me. We might be captivated in our own thoughts but maybe all you need is a soul that listens to you, a soul that empathises.