Coffee Shops Thought No1. Like most of the young boys in my… | by Ahmedbendarma | Aug, 2025
Like most of the young boys in my country, I have this ritual of sitting at local coffee shops almost everyday. These places have nothing to do with European coffee shops, as people do almost everything in a chaotic, annoying and loud way. It’s hectic here. Loud conversations with lapses of suddenly brief yet loud shouts. I sit there and I write, maybe because chic coffee shops are dull and aristocratically overpriced. I have to say, the last thing I would love is elitism and exclusivity. If I were to do something, I would go for what most people would go for. A genuine people’s experience, no “Mr” or “Mrs.” but “buddy” or “pal” — sometimes “brother”. Because that’s where real human experience is. A spontaneous manner, rustic graces, a simplicity in conduct. In short, I raise the middle finger to prepared talks, pre-made interactions, and protocols. So I take a chair in the local shop, and I write or read hazily because of the noise, but paradoxically even if I can’t see my ideas clearly between the shouts and the hubbub, I get a lot of ideas. But forget about ideas and writings, since I mix my time in these coffee shops between two main actions : writing and noticing.
I used to think noticing was a form of distraction that made me drift away from my craft. But the wiser and quietly spoken side of me said something in my head, “noticing is as important as writing”. And I went through this seemingly intrusive thought, only to settle on being more conscious in my noticing. So I observed everything and anything that caught my eye and my ears. There were cars rolling on, most of them were busy and honking, some slow, some in between — everyone had their own story. I could imagine that most of them were going about their daily routines. So I asked myself : “what’s so special about their life that they go on chasing it at that speed? Am I too slow for this world?”.
In the midst of this self-reflection, I contemplated the concept of life. So I asked : “Does my life come from me, or from society?”, but there was a fact about most of these hurrying people. They hated that breakneck lifestyle, it was society that made them live like that, it was money. I didn’t care much about money, as long as I had enough to live, I had no problem. In fact, there are two truths about life, you’re born and you’re dead, whatever pleasure happens in between just enjoy it. Whatever it is , it disappears and you’re no longer conscious of it, and therefore has no value. It becomes a faded memory. We are a memory as long as humanity keeps remembering us, or we slowly blur into nothingness, even societies with their cultures and ideologies cease to exist with time. So why rush? Why do we do what we hate? Why we avoid the change we always wanted? I guess we see ourselves through the lenses of others — society, and not with our own raw eyes. May one day we be free, at least for a moment.
These thoughts were written in a coffee shop called “Venezia Shorouk” 13–08–2025–8:53am Casablanca, Morocco.
