TEA..

                      A beverage that I got addicted to, when I was in school. Strange a tangible thing like that could get so woven up in my psyche. The love affair started when one of our neighbourhood aunt shifted to the spare room that we had in our house. The room had an entrance seperate from ours. They were our very good family friends and were moving to Jabalpur. My mom had cajoled my father to allow them to stay till they moved out. This family was liberal and was sort of Mr. Bennet's family of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. My dad didn't like me, my mom or my brother mingling too much with them but which we did anyway. We hung out at their place during vacation for long time. It was at their place I learned most of North Indian cooking.
                        Well the first day after uncle/aunty shifted, I woke up and went to meet them in their room, Aunty was preparing tea the Indian way. She boiled the water first, put sugar and then added tea. Of course there was ginger and cardamom as well, in the brew. We loved this aunty. The way she would talk to us using 'beta' (an endearment in Hindi like 'sonny' in English) and the affectionate hugs, warm words welcoming us etc. So that day she asked me to have a seat and join them for tea. Looking at my face, she said,'Kuch nahee hoga, mummy/papa nahee datenge'. (Mom and Dad will not mind, its o.k. to have tea with us). So the daily saga of sipping the morning cuppa tea with my favourite aunt began. I would love to look at the way she lighted the gas, kept the water to boil, the measured sugar and tea she added, the spices she put without measuring, at random, kept a plate over the vessel after the tea boiled and then drained the reddish brown liquid into beautiful china cups (in contrast to the steel glasses my mom used), added the correct amount of milk to impart that heavenly milkish brown colour and then served with a fresh morning feeling of 'Let's sip and get started for the day'. Boy ! did I enjoy ? Every bit of it. For a person who didn't mingle with people easily, any association like this that I formed, was a lifetime memory etched forever in my mind.
                       Then there was this six months I stayed with my granny as I worked. She would wait patiently for me to return from office and offered my favourite drink in a steel mug. I liked that mug. The relationship I had with granny was very special again. She was one of those few who understood what I wanted. At that point of her life when she would feel lonely as my grandfather was no more and her son/daughter in law went to work, she looked forward to my company. Crux of the matter, apart from the whiff and taste the drink imparted to the senses, the affection of people wound around its aroma, the Tea continues to be my favourite drink the typical Indian 'Chai' to be precise. But today I skipped the morning ritual of tea. Good health demands price at times. A small step towards learning to exercise control over senses I should say.