a cup of coffee

[Listening to Shirley Lu's Spell of Love, an instrumental Chinese music piece played on pipa. I remember being captivated by the music and the green-hued forest setting when watching it as a small kid on TV. ]

Once, in September 2010, I went to Tameside Hospital for a brief session in Obstetrics and Gynaecology. I was just expecting to brush up a bit on my long-abandoned O&G knowledge and skills. It was good in a way to start with a modest expectation, because there wasn't a lot of patients in the ward, and not a lot of variety, that the rounds start late and finish very early. I ended up occupying the time left by learning prescribing from the foundation doctor in charge - and one more thing.

He was young, with a (stylishly) bald head, and wears a hearing aid. We went to the break room for some hot drink and toast. He was nice enough to make a cup for me - coffee, hot water, milk, two sugars. For himself though, it was much simpler. He took a large mug, put in some coffee in it, then poured hot water.

"Don't you put any sugar or milk?"
"No, this is fine for me."

My tastes and choices in drinks have underwent changes over the years. In Malaysia, I swore by Milo and the occasional Horlicks. When I commenced studies in the UK, for the first two years, I almost never touched coffee. When asked "tea or coffee?" I would always go for the former, claiming that the latter causes headaches, tummy upsets, excessive trips to the ladies', and if taken in the evenings, it will guarantee possibly hours of insomniac tossing and turning.

I didn't exactly remember when did I start taking coffee. Perhaps it was sometime in the third year of medical school. Then I started to get hooked to it - attached, but not addicted. There wasn't really unpleasant effects to speak of, apart from the frequent trips to the WC. Now, I definitely prefer coffee to tea, anytime.

I did not take the beverage for the 'caffeine rush' - I don't think it really gave me any additional freshness or alertness, although my favourite time for taking a cup would be in the morning, during somnolence-friendly lectures or late at night when there is still that little bit of work that needs to be done before going to bed. I think the awakening effect, for me, comes largely from the act of drinking something hot with a unique flavour.

Sometimes, taken excessively, especially during lengthy programs or camps when cups upon cups of coffee will be downed almost subconsciously, I will get the 'side effects'. Headaches, nausea, and that strange feeling of 'caffeine high' as I called it, a feeling of feverish wakefulness where one is not able to sit down and rest, let alone sleep, but the concentration is very superficial such that one cannot actually be productive.

I'm massively digressing. The point I was about to get to was actually my favourite way of preparing coffee. Lots of sugar, then milk. (Those who had had the chance to cook with me or sample my cooking will agree that sugar is an essential part - be it curry, sambal, fried rice, masak lemak, stir-fry vegs..you name it, I'll sprinkle some sugar in it.)

However, watching the young doctor making his coffee, my practice was put into contemplation. What if I give it a try? Coffee without sugar seems to be a good way to reduce my calorie intake, and I like the zen-like quality of self-control involved in training myself to like a new, supposedly less pleasant taste than what I'm used to. I didn't really give it much serious thought, but perhaps I can remember later asking a nurse who offered me a coffee, to make it without sugar. And I haven't looked back since. OK, maybe I did, two or three times, and I do drink 'normal' coffee when it was served in jugs for social settings.

Once, I offered to make my consultant supervisor - a very nice man originally from Lebanon, tall and fair, with a lot hair (not very stylishly) gone - a cup of coffee together with mine. When I told him that I prefer mine without sugar, he shook his head and said that coffee without sugar would lack pleasantness (or something to that effect).

Now, almost ten months after starting, I have actually loved coffee (and the occasional tea), with three-quarters hot water, one-quarter milk, and no sugar. Sometimes I made do without the milk. Very few of my friends would share a cup with me for that reason - a number of them feel that coffee without sugar is rather unpalatable.

There is no thrill of self-control, of accustomizing myself to the unfamiliar, of training my long-conditioned tastebuds to appreciate a foreign sensation, not anymore, the transition phase is over. I still add sugar to a lot of my cooking, and two days ago my housemates complain that my cordial was excessively sweet. However, when it comes to caffeinated beverages, I do not need - or want - sugar anymore. The full-bodied, slightly bitter, flavour of good roasted or freeze-dried coffee, accentuated by creamy milk, fragrant steam emanating from the brim, sometimes I take more than three cups a day, for no other reason than simple desire.

I was accustomed to associate sweetness with pleasure. Not one packet of sugar for my coffee, but two. Little did I know that bitter is also delicious, and that there are other pleasant flavours as well to be discovered in a cup of coffee - until I trained myself to appreciate them, and finally, I am contented with them.

[Having just finished a cup of coffee, and about to prepare for Fajr prayer. Maybe I'll take one more cup before going to sleep.]