An Extreme Love of Coffee by Harish Bhat

Author:Harish Bhat
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789353056810
Publisher: Penguin Random House India Private Limited
Published: 2019-09-29T16:00:00+00:00

A priest who was watching them came up and spoke. He wore a pigtail and a large holy mark on his forehead.

‘Would you like to offer special prayers? People come here to pray for food, health and also marriage negotiations.’

Neha looked up at Rahul. Marriage negotiations. What an interesting and archaic thought! She said nothing. Instead, she asked the priest, ‘Is there a shrine of coffee in this temple? Can you show us the way?’

The priest looked at her with an incredulous expression.

‘Coffee? Madam, you are inside a sacred temple. We don’t have shrines of coffee here; we have shrines of our gods and goddesses. I think you have come to the wrong place if you are looking for coffee. But maybe I can offer a special prayer for your health?’

Neha, however, wasn’t one to give up so easily. ‘Are you sure? Is there a coffee plant anywhere here, like these trees that are named after planets? Annapoorneswari is the goddess of food, and coffee is food too, isn’t it?’

The priest, too, was stubborn. In fact, he appeared to be relishing the opportunity to make his points about the temple, which had been his home for over twenty years now. He spoke in fluent English, his pigtail moving from side to side as he answered.

‘Madam, don’t take me lightly. This is a holy place. Food for our goddess is that which nourishes people. She offers nourishment and health. She provides rice, grains, pulses and vegetables. Coffee is not considered food in our temple. Far from it. I have never heard of a shrine of coffee, Madam. You will not find one here, or in any other temple. Now, I have to go. There are many pilgrims here who need me.’

Rahul and Neha looked at each other. They had got so far in their search for the treasure, but now they were stuck again. They were right here, in the temple of the goddess of food, in the Manchester of south India, but without an answer to the second clue and no idea about what to do next. Had they reached a dead end?

‘Let’s have a nice cup of hot coffee, Neha,’ said Rahul. ‘Often, it’s the coffee which has all the answers. Also, I am feeling tired, as are you. It’s been a long day.’

Just as they stepped out through the gopuram, they saw him once again. Takahira Yamamoto. This time, he was accompanied by another man who looked Japanese too but was somewhat taller and had a very thin face. Yamamoto looked at Rahul and Neha. Their eyes locked. They were just a couple of feet away from each other. Contact seemed unavoidable this time. Rahul offered a silent prayer and hoped that there would be no violence.

Takahira Yamamoto drew out his sword and held it high in the air. He looked at Rahul and Neha, and spoke in staccato English.

‘The treasure,’ he said, ‘my family’s treasure. Don’t forget, it is mine. I see every move you make, Rahul and Neha.

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