Adda 2055 -The Last Real Coffee House

Adda 2055 — The Last Real Coffee House

The Indian Coffee House, College Street, Kolkata — paint peeling, waiters in Nehru caps, ceiling fans whirring at their own sleepy rhythm. Amid this charming decay, at their forever corner table, the Fab Four of 75+: Ramu, Jadu, Shirish, and Amiyo were raising hell again. Their combined age could beat a banyan tree, but their tongues? Razor sharp.

---

Ramu (mischievous glint, stirring his thick coffee like a potion):
“Boys, I read yesterday that by 2055, people will be dating AI companions with built-in mood stabilizers. Imagine falling in love with a glorified Alexa. ‘Darling, how do I look?’ — ‘You are 98.7% stunning, based on global metrics.’ Bas! That's romance now.”

Jadu (rolling his eyes):
“Romance is dead, Ramu. It’s already buried under the 17 layers of gated community security. I visited one in Gurgaon last month—oxygen bar, mood lighting, even AI-generated flute music! No para. No tea stalls. No aunties peeking from balconies. Just sterile smiles and indoor air purifiers.”

Shirish (cracking his knuckles, techie mode on):
“Gated communities are just the beta version of future bunkers. By 2055, half the world will be unemployed thanks to robots making your coffee and wiping your—well, you know. The other half? Bored out of their diamond-studded skulls, doing yoga on Mars, maybe. I read rich folks in Japan now pay to experience ‘manual labor’ weekends. Imagine Mukesh Ambani digging potatoes for inner peace!”

Amiyo (peacefully sipping coffee, eyes twinkling):
“Shirish, you're missing the point. When everything becomes artificial, the soul will seek what’s real. Remember what Vivekananda said—‘You have to grow from the inside out.’ These burnt toasts and bitter coffees are real. By 2055, people will beg for ashrams with Wi-Fi and guided meditation bots chanting the Gayatri Mantra.”

---

Ramu (smirking):
“Wait till AI starts writing poetry in Tagore’s voice! And people will say, ‘Wow, this bot feels!’ Meanwhile, poor humans will be on prescription serotonin just to survive Monday.”

Jadu (nodding vigorously):
“Exactly! Already, Delhi’s AQI hit 450 last week. In 30 years, kids will think 'O2' is a luxury brand. Every gated flat will come with its own oxygen bank. And street-side adda? Replaced by AI moderators: ‘Let’s keep the conversation civil, folks.’ Bah!”

Shirish (with a dramatic sigh):
“And don't even mention jobs. In 2024, China’s factories cut 20% of workers with automation. By 2055, even IT guys will be out. Only civil engineers like me will matter—we’ll be the last humans building anything. I’ll be in demand till I’m 110!”

Amiyo (calmly):
“You might build oxygen bars and robot cafes, Shirish. But one question will remain: ‘Why am I here?’ And no robot can answer that. That’s where our real journey begins.”

---

Ramu (mock whisper):
“Careful, Amiyo. Say such things and the robots might flag you for philosophical subversion!”

Jadu (slapping the table, coffee nearly spilling):
“Hah! By 2055, humans will need a passcode just to feel emotions. Joy-153, Anger-406! And dating? You’ll have to subscribe: LoveLite™—Free hugs for 7 days, cancel anytime!”

Shirish (laughing):
“Add a tier: LoveMax™ with real arguments and mother-in-law simulations!”

Amiyo (smiling):
“You laugh now, but I say this: the soul is the last rebel. When the brain breaks down from AI overstimulation, when love becomes code, when no one talks at a tea stall anymore—then someone will search for silence. For meaning. For that one real cup of coffee.”

---

The four fell silent for a moment, sipping their real, gritty brew. Then Ramu broke the quiet.

Ramu (grinning):
“Alright then, boys. In 2055, we’ll launch a Real Adda Café™. No bots. No filters. Just old men gossiping, burnt toast guaranteed.”

Jadu (saluting with his cup):
“And mandatory fights over politics. With spitting range arguments!”

Shirish:
“I’ll design it. Solar-powered, air-filtered, but with leaky roofs. Nostalgia sells!”

Amiyo:
“And I’ll add a meditation nook. Free Wi-Fi for the body, but a silent zone for the soul.”

---

As the laughter swelled and the ceiling fan creaked in approval, a waiter shuffled over with another round, grinning. These four? They weren’t just customers. They were the last philosophers of a fading world, holding court over coffee—and refusing to be digitized.

---

Epilogue: Their Forecast for 2055 – Now Served Hot with Coffee

• Ramu: Love downgraded to AI apps; mental breakdowns rise like house rent.
• Jadu: Oxygen bars replace tea stalls; gated communities crush para adda.
• Shirish: AI takes over jobs; manual labor becomes exotic tourism for bored billionaires.
• Amiyo: Tech may rule the mind, but the soul will seek shelter—in silence, in song, in Swami Vivekananda.

One real table. Four old friends. A future worth laughing over.