Mysteries, Mocha and Mango Meadows

My Year in Stories.

Musings Over Coffee in Mango Meadows

There’s a certain charm to the first sip of coffee on a lazy afternoon in Mango Meadows. The air, thick with the fragrance of ripening mangoes and a gentle breeze, seemed to have its own rhythm—a perfect accompaniment to reflecting on the year that was.

Books, movies, and shows have a peculiar way of becoming more than just pastimes. They offer an escape, a perspective, or sometimes, a mirror. This year, my reading journey danced to the timeless tunes of P.G. Wodehouse and Agatha Christie. In fact, as Wodehouse would put it, “She had the face of an angel, but she had a double chin and a cold in the head. If she had been a book, she would have been the one you like to keep on the shelf but never actually open.” Not a description of my reading experience, of course, but rather a Wodehousian take on how we sift through life’s many options, keeping some close and letting others fade.

When it came to reading goals, I outdid myself. Twenty fiction books were the initial aim, but I comfortably surpassed that number, indulging in Wodehouse’s whimsy and Christie’s masterful plotting. The non-fiction side of things outshone as well, bolstered by intriguing reads like Madam Sir. Authored by a remarkable IPS officer, this biography explored the delicate dance of enforcing law in Bihar while managing familial responsibilities. It felt like a symphony of self-empowerment, as if the protagonist had reached up and shattered the proverbial glass ceiling to weave her story.

The allure of whodunnits, both in books and on screen, leaves me pondering. What is it about thrillers that hooks us so firmly? Perhaps it’s the way they engage our primal need for resolution, the tantalizing tease of the unknown being slowly unraveled. Agatha Christie once quipped through Hercule Poirot, “The impossible cannot have happened, therefore the impossible must be possible in spite of appearances.” Every whodunnit hinges on this principle—leading us down paths of intrigue, making us amateur detectives with a front-row seat to the mystery.

My foray into movies and shows followed a similar thread. Whodunnits dominated my screen time too. However, one delightful departure from the genre stood out—S’weet Kaaram Coffee. This Tamil-language series was a tender blend of a travelogue and a life journey shared by three generations of women—a grandmother, mother-in-law, and granddaughter. Through their journey, I was reminded of life’s unexpected twists and the strength in embracing them.

And yet, sitting in the cozy cocoon of Mango Meadows, it’s not just about tallying the numbers or genres. It’s about why these stories resonated with me in the first place. Perhaps the appeal lies in their reflection of life itself—where mysteries abound, resolutions are seldom handed to us, and strength often emerges when we least expect it.

This brings me to a whimsical thought. If I could rewrite the ending of any book, movie, or show I encountered this year, what would it be? While most were satisfying, I sometimes wished for more depth or redemption for certain characters. Perhaps, as Wodehouse wrote, “It is never difficult to distinguish between a Scotsman with a grievance and a ray of sunshine.” A grievance, I suppose, is not always a bad thing—it drives us to imagine better outcomes and richer endings, even for the tales we cherish.

Another musing over coffee is the ritual itself. The act of picking a book, choosing a movie, or settling down for a show isn’t merely about consumption; it’s a form of self-discovery. We choose whodunnits not just for the thrill but because they remind us of the order in chaos, the triumph of wit over evil. We indulge in stories of empowerment to reconnect with our inner strength. And sometimes, we revel in whimsical tales simply to laugh, as Wodehouse would nudge us with his “I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled.”

The year gone by has taught me that stories, much like coffee in Mango Meadows, are best when savored. They weave into the fabric of our lives, threading lessons, entertainment, and reflections. I suppose the real mystery isn’t just whodunnit or what happened next; it’s what these tales leave with us as we close the book, turn off the screen, or finish the cup.

So here’s to another year of stories—to unravelling mysteries, finding strength in unexpected places, and embracing the whimsical with open arms.

This post is part of Blogchatter’s #BlogchatterWrapParty