A jewish Coffee, with love

I drink coffee after a very long time and a very good one indeed. Was in Stockholm Sweden a night before and a colleague of mine took me to one of the small cafes in the gatans near stureplan (gatan is streets in swedish). The coffee was made by a very friendly jew who, with his long beard would have been mistaken by a taliban if he is not wearing his kippah cap and tzitzit robes and not to forget the naive smile……. He brewed the grounded coffee with as much love and care, as if he is creating a piece of art, slowly leveling and pressing the grounded coffee beans into the machine and making a perfect leaf on the frothing milk, and i thought to my self, like an expert diamond maker this guy is getting the best out of raw coffee, shining his diamond in every cup of coffee he makes everyday….

I remember a doctor said to me once to put all my love to the place hurting the most and the pain will go away and for no reason i thought of it today…… if for once we remove all the bias pushed in our minds with crazy stories bearing no facts, if for once we remove the Israel and Zionism and holocaust and world war 2 images from our minds, the cultural aspect of jewism, their cloths and food, their dedication to any craft they master, their subtle way of pursuing perfection, their sustained sense of harmony in waiting, is as much to be enjoyed and celebrate with as any other colors we see in our lives. If for once we remove the pain with love……….. Sometimes one has to experience first hand to enjoy the bounties of life then to be fearful of the told stories keeping us away from unexplored happiness.

I thought if ever in the cosmic coincidence of events, i get a chance to crush a bottle with my shoes for a jew girl, how good will that be…….

PS additionals:
– Stureplan is the same place i wrote another blog three years ago, the coffee was having a hint of bitterness this time though, even after putting alot of sugar…….. (here is the link)

– Coffee has something to do with my Swedish sense of writing, or shall i say sweden has something to do with my writing sense of coffee. I wrote a poem in my language few years back talking about coffee while sitting in Stockholm downtown central (here is the link with translation)