My Kingdom for a decent cup of coffee

Normally, when you (grudgingly, and with the right level of embarrassment) admit that you like your coffee black, with no sugar, in a nation of tea drinkers (preferably with enough milk to turn the complexion of the drink into a shade that would be acceptable to rishta aunties when screening prospecting spouses, and just as sweet), you are met with a response that would not feel out of place in that scene from a 70’s Nadeem / Shabnam blockbuster where the “side heroine” learns that her spouse has tragically died in a car accident, and proceeds to smash her bangles at the nearest doorway. This disbelief / anguish is rapidly followed up with revulsion: it’s so bitter! How can you countenance pouring this poison down your throat? Plus, don’t you know coffee is bad for you? As a result, it takes a special kind of resilience (read: dhitai ) to be an avowed coffee drinker in these parts. It also takes skin of elephantine thickness to be able to smile through a conversation where o...