It was not a very large space and that too on the second floor of an office building, and climbing all the stairs may leave you panting but once we walked through that wooden door, the warmth of this fabulous space would take away any signs of stress, what so ever from your whole body. Yes I am talking about “The Second Floor” where today the last cup of coffee was served, and yes Indeed they are moving to a new location nearby but there will bet it will take some time to finish. The place Void of all it’s furniture, the coffee machine on a different location, temporarily placed on a table to make a few last servings and A couple of customers walked in, “what happened ” Zaheer Bhi said ” We just served the last cup of coffee here, we are closed” and they replied “Where will we go then ?”
Yeah exactly where will we go till the new place is furnished and becomes functional ? Where ? Where will those students study, where will we get to have such brilliant conversations ?
This place is where I met the most amazing people I know today, writers, poets, singers, social human right activists, film makers, artists, VJz . The floor introduced me Mohammed Hanif, the wonderful writer, and I good Punjabi speaker to I learned, Musadiq Sanwal and his excellent singing talents, the Mirza Sahiban he sand that day over the harmonium. Basharat Peer a journalist from Indian administrated Kashmir, whose brilliantly written book “Curfewed Nights” which I am currently reading and falling deeper in love with it every day. And David, Bina Shah, Sehba Sarvar, Bina Sarwar, Mushtaq Ahmad yousufi, Zehra Appa, The list goes on….. All the events, talks, readings and events and then the quality time we spent discussing, reading, learning and enjoying the freedom to say and express without being judged or disrespected. Where students studied for hours without being disturbed or asked to be customers to be able to sit and study.
And the amount of love Sabeen had put into this place, taking care of the finest of It’s details, decorating every wall every corner with some thing interesting and actually thought provoking, the posters, the slogans, the magazines, the soft-board in the toilet and the pin board in the alley.
This was one place which was ours, which we knew we will not be kicked out of also for reasons of Class distinction ( What ever the word “class distinction” means) . This was one place where we were given a true sense of ownership. Where when the Mac book got stolen we all felt the pain, and when there was a pencil mark on the white wall we felt bad and when we saw that table which was slightly burnt because someone left a lit cigarette on it we felt sad.
I remember it was a bloggers meetup at which Sabeen had mentioned her plans to setup a coffee house, with a library and hold literary events, a space for open conversations. And then around a year or so later T2F started it’s services, No it was never meant to be a commercial space and NO It was not at all pseudo, the tears when it was announced that the landlord has asked us to move out, were real, I cried, we all cried and It was not a Fucking Drama !…
I don’t know if this is even a blog, or even if this all makes any sense but today I just want to sit and cry the emotions are too high and the thoughts are too random… But I really don’t care.
View more images from T2F here
P.S sorry if I miss spelled any of your names