Ek Cup Chai

Doesn't every season bring some favourite food to look forward to? Summer means plump golden mangoes to bite into, sticky juice running down your chin. In winter I have a clear winner in roadside momos, those pillowy bundles emitting puffs of steam, devoured in a couple of bites and warming you all the way to your stomach. And rains always stir this deep yearning for a nice cup of chai. 

I have always been an an unabashed tea lover. Ever since I was a child, I would share a cup of tea with Aja and Aai sometime around four in the afternoon, just as the sun would stop being uncomfortably hot and become come pleasant. Mom wouldn't generally let me have have any any since since in her book "kids don't drink tea", but grandparents are so qood at indulging us aren't they? Sitting in the verandah on foldable garden chairs, dipping biscuits into my tea or munching on buttered toast or handfuls of namkeen, I was one happy gal. Tea at the beginning meant tea made with milk, fortified with ginger or a warm hint of cardamom if the weather warranted it, or if one just craved a change. Then my Jejebapa introduced me to the joys of a cup of black tea with a drop of lemon squeezed into it. I was astonished by how the citrusy fragrance agrance o curled into my tastebuds with every sip, and I became a convert. The light airy liquid was just the right kind for summer afternoons when milk tea felt uninspiringly heavy. 

For a long time these were the only versions of tea I tasted. Then suddenly the market exploded and there was tea everywhere. There was green tea, white tea, mint tea, jasmine tea. There was tea without the actual tea leaf at all. Fruity infusions, invigorating herbal concoctions, teas made of flowers and insanely priced gourmet teas. On a trip to Darjeeling I even discovered a velvety union of chocolate and tea. I encountered tea estate lingo like first flush, peppery notes and bouquets on the back of gaily packaged tea boxes. From being a humble cup of chai, tea became an aspiration for connoisseurs. And instead of a routine purchase, tea became an avenue to experiment with, to delight in, to spend happy moments trying flavours of. 

While I sip tea all year round, monsoon is my favourite tea season. There is something so quintessentially Indian about sipping a cup of chai while the rain sheets down. Lying cozily curled up on the couch with a book in one hand and a steaming mug in the other while the storm winds battle outside and droplets spatter onto pavements is probably one of the happiest experiences of life. Of course, piping hot pakodas don't hurt either :D 

The delicate golden liquid 

Steaming gentle wisps into the air

A teasing hint of its scent hid 

Behind leafy ripples, here and there 

Poured out with shimmering grace 

In a sparkling amber arc

Day after day, a ritual hostess 

As light gives way to dark...

Originally written on July 11, 2014