Coffee

What is your favorite drink?

“You have a right to perform your prescribed duty, but you are not entitled to the fruits of your actions.” — Bhagavad Gita 2.47

In a busy corner of the town stood a small coffee stall that never slept. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee pulled people in like a silent magnet. Cups clinked, money flowed, and the owner smiled at the growing pile of profit.Among the regulars was Meena.Every morning she arrived tired and restless. “Just one strong coffee,” she would say. The first sip woke her up sharp, fast, electric. Her heart raced. Her thoughts sped up.

By afternoon, the same cup that lifted her now left her anxious, shaky, and strangely empty.Yet the next day, she returned.Across the counter, the owner watched quietly. To him, coffee was not emotion it was business.

Each cup meant margins, volume, repeat customers. The more restless the crowd, the stronger the demand. The stall grew. New machines arrived. Profits doubled.One evening, Meena sat longer than usual, staring into her cup.“Why do I keep coming back,” she murmured, “when this makes me feel worse?”The old owner finally spoke.“Because,” he said gently, “coffee is powerful.

In the right amount, it serves. In excess, it rules. I sell the cup but only you decide the habit.”Meena held the warm cup in her palms. For the first time, she did not rush to drink.The stall continued to prosper not because coffee was evil, nor because it was pure but because the world runs on both need and attachment.And somewhere between profit and peace, each person must choose their own measure.

“When a person gives up all desires born of the mind, and is satisfied in the Self alone, then he is said to be steady in wisdom.” — Bhagavad Gita 2.55