Progress, Measured in Cup

Every alternate day, I stay home in the morning. The days are for stretching and Callisthenics. I had back pain my entire life, and now, for the first time in my life, I have a painless back. I wake up at my usual time, before the city wakes up. I complete my exercise, and I brew coffee in my moka pot—and I can tell, I’m getting better at it.

I fill the bottom chamber with warm water, just below the valve. I buy beans from a particular cafe. I grind the beans in my manual crank pot. I fill the filter basket with medium-fine grounds loosely. The pot goes onto the stove and a small flame. I wait. As coffee starts to pour, I further reduce the flame. After a while, I remove the pot. I don't let the moka pot gurgle in the end.

When I pour coffee into a cup, it is strong, balanced for my taste. It is not perfect - but better. I sip it by the window, watching Kathmandu, waking up or struggling to wake up. I see what many don't see: a quiet Kathmandu - a city that is waiting to serve nearly 3 million people. A hustle and bustle will soon begin. Before that, I enjoy my coffee, and get ready for a day - same as my coffee - not perfect but better than yesterday.

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