CHAI – A ROMANCE TO LAST A LIFETIME

Twelve years ago, somewhere in the hills of Ooty, a worker from tea factory handed me a steaming cup of chai as I stood, shivering in the biting cold. As the hot, sweet, ginger-infused brew coursed down my throat, I knew that very instant that no matter how many cups of tea I’d glug in the years to come, nothing would ever come close to that feeling of absolute tea-induced nirvana I felt on that day. That was the day my affair with the humble chai began. Now, my day begins with a mug of this heavenly brew and ends with one.

In Frame: Author having Tandoori Chai in Manali, India

One fine evening in 2008, being a person who loves experimentation, I got myself into the art of making chai, changing the adjective I used to describe the evening. The prospect of experimenting in the kitchen, with the older people safely tucked away at one of the numerous weddings they attended, seemed too good to pass up. Unaware of the particle distinguishability, I took out an unlabelled box of small round seeds and added it to a vessel of boiling water. I waited a whole long hour for the colour of the fluid to change to amber and finally figured out that I used mustard seeds instead of tea powder. After a course of earful roasting from my mother, I gathered determination and tried my hands on making chai, yet again. Day two of this experimentation had me failing at the input of adding butter milk instead of milk. But this time, I managed to clear the scene of failed experiment before I got caught by my mother’s intense sense of smelling. Let’s skip the time when I added salt instead of sugar because it’s a famous mistake in any Indian household. This time, I had almost nailed it, except that no one told me that a pressure cooker does not qualify as the right utensil to make chai. In my defence, kitchen was the most unfamiliar part of my home, back then. These stories are mostly used as conversation fillers during my family gatherings.

Ooty Tea Factory and Museum where I tasted my first Chai

When I finally brewed my perfect cup of tea, I realised that there’s nothing more pleasurable than sipping a cup of homemade masala chai, tucking into pakoras and reading a novel while listening to the pitter patter of the raindrops during the Chennai monsoons. Now that I’m a pro at a then-failed experiment, I can say to anyone who is a novice in brewing your best cup of chai that chai is all about balancing the spices, add too much or too little of any spice and your chai tastes totally different.

 

Chai has become more than just a hot beverage for me, it is a part of my life and the very basis of my existence. It can be a conversation initiator during dates. A sip of it can be an excuse to avoid conversations in a boring get-together. 

If you are cold, tea will warm you. If you are heated, it will cool you. If you are depressed, it will cheer you. If you are excited, it will calm you.

After having moved to Glasgow, I love saying goodbye to the cold while drinking tea. I got my own travel mug to keep my chai hot all day. I went to those heights of buying a basil plant to brew my tea everyday. It’s always wonderful to have a cup of tea with the entire family and have a small talk about each one's life that always brings us closer to each other. The concept of this small and homely tea party used to relax me a lot. Back in Chennai, my father and I usually fight over the cup of chai which is more in measure. Whenever I drink my perfect cup of tea in Glasgow, I get reminded of the silly fights with my dad. A cup of tea is something that never leaves me alone; soothes me, gives me strength, makes my mood, and sometimes reminds me some priceless faces from my past. Far from my home, tea was the only alibi of those cheerful days I passed with my family and friends in India.

Life savior in Lockdown

I am always lazy enough to procrastinate my assignments till before the night of deadlines. Sometimes I was tensed. I had to work for the whole night to finish my work while others were sleeping. But the magic of smoky tea swirled in every wrinkle of my brain, kept me awaken and diligent to complete my projects. After those painstaking nights; a fresh warm stoke of tea made by my dad refreshed me again in the morning, loosened up my tangled agitated mind and energised me for the rest of the day. I always admired my friendship with tea. Cups of different colours, sizes and various shapes filled most of the spaces of my kitchen cabinet just to adorn my tea. Sometimes tea was a luxury for me.

Chai is a hug in a mug

To the man I would love, ‘Dates, movies and malls are overrated. Let’s just grab a Tandoori Chai together looking up at the parabola of sky in silence’.