Cafés have bloomed on every other corner of the city and are considered small, warm islands of light where the youth gather almost all day, their eyes half open and hands gripping coffee cups like lifelines.

And Talha was one of them.

At 18, he believed that his day couldn’t start until the first sip of coffee slid down his throat — bitter, hot and reassuring.

He didn’t remember when this routine started, but it was sometime during the exam season, when late nights and early mornings were unavoidable. That was when he brewed his first cup and stayed up late studying. As a result, good grades were earned, along with trust in coffee. One cup became two, and two became three, and soon it was a ritual, a sign of productivity and proof that he was hustling.

“Sleep is for later,” his classmates would joke, posting pictures of foamy lattes and dark mugs on their social media, with captions like “Powered by caffeine.” Cafés had become their second classrooms, places to study, complain, dream and, of course, scroll endlessly. They were places where tiredness looked fashionable and stress felt productive.

Talha’s fourth cup came by the evening. And by then, his hands trembled as he wrote notes he didn’t remember. His heart thudded and his thoughts jumped. Talha felt exhausted, but unable to rest. Nights stretched longer and sleep grew lighter. Yet the answer was the same in the morning. Another cup of coffee.

One evening, as Talha was waiting for his usual order, he saw an old man sitting alone, sipping his small cup of black coffee with no rush or haste.

“You drink a lot,” the old man said, nodding towards Talha’s stack of cups.

“Yeah, it keeps me going,” Talha replied. He felt a little guilty. But why? He didn’t know. Talha knew that he drank quite a lot of coffee, but it had now become a habit and he couldn’t resist it.

“Coffee is meant to wake you up, not keep you going. That’s on you, young man!”

The words stayed. That night, Talha took his coffee and looked at it for some time. He remembered the words and asked the mug, “Can I live without you?”

“Why am I so dependent on coffee… why? What if I don’t drink it and see what happens?” he muttered to himself. He put down the mug and lay down on his bed, still thinking about the craving he was having.

After a lot of tossing and turning, he finally slept. In the morning, he had breakfast and took just one cup of coffee. For the rest of the day, he resisted the urge.

He kept this routine for a week, and after that, he felt different, really different. He felt energetic and hungry. He ate properly and realised he was sleeping on time and waking up fresh, not tired.

Talha didn’t quit drinking coffee instantly; instead, he stopped letting it control him.

Published in Dawn, Young World, March 14th, 2026