"Mugs, Memories, and a Dash of Irony"

As a little girl, I was captivated by ceramic plates and cups, often daydreaming of sipping tea or coffee from elegant mugs. Visits to my grandmothers' and aunts’ homes left a lasting impression, where these delicate items were reserved for special occasions. But growing up in a lower-middle-class family, those dreams felt out of reach.

I still vividly remember the first ceramic coffee cup my mother bought during my college years. It was a simple white cup with green dots, yet it felt almost magical, as if it carried a piece of a long-held dream. That memory has stayed with me, a quiet symbol of hope and progress.

As life improved, ceramics and glassware gradually became a part of our daily lives, no longer reserved for rare moments. Today, my home is adorned with beautiful ceramic plates, coffee mugs, and teacups. Yet, every morning, I find myself drawn to my grandmother’s old stainless steel cup for my coffee.

Isn’t it peculiar how life works? The things we yearn for often remain just out of reach when we want them most. And when they finally arrive, the fire of desire may dim, leaving us wondering about the nature of fulfillment. Be it relationships, friendships, or love, keeping that initial spark alive is one of life’s most delicate challenges.

Perhaps the true art of life lies not in the pursuit of things, but in savoring the journey and treasuring the emotions they stir. A cup is never just a vessel—it’s a repository of dreams, memories, and the hands that shaped our world. Sometimes, it’s the aged and imperfect that carry the deepest beauty, like love that matures over time or friendships weathered by years. Life, in its essence, is a dance of holding on, letting go, and cherishing the quiet echoes in between.

Au Revoir' 

Irfa