The Hipster and her Cuppa

All through my teens and the twenties, I followed all the (Indian) hipster or arty traits - wore handloom, went for plays, had hot political discussions, read thick life-changing books, studied literature, watched avant garde cinema even carried a jhola but, there are two things that I never did - I never wore a fedora and never drank tea.

I have not worn a fedora till date but, tried on other kinds of hats and caps and though I worked as a journalist for the first part of my career, I didn't have tea till I left journalism, left the city of my birth and my family behind and replanted my self into another place.

I have always believed that I came of age in my very late 20s and early to mid 30s. I was a late bloomer or plain dumb about life till it hit me with a ton of bricks on my face.

Anyway, coming back to tea that has become my best friend somehow in the last decade or so. I never drank tea because I was brought up on milk. I loved milk. I could have milk any time of the day and feel lucky. My friends hated me for that because, I would go to their homes, turn down their mom's offer for a cup of tea and ask for a glass of milk instead - even in college! This not just embarrassed my poor friends but, also got them huge lectures on how they should also drink tea like me - facepalm and sorry everyone I did this to. I was too selfish and too much in love with milk to be any better.

It is almost surreal to think that in my avataar as a cub in the newsroom I was in-charge of 'making tea' for a whole year for the entire team because, I was the youngest. I knew exactly how much sugar or milk each person in the room wanted and if someone wanted none. We used to get a pot of tea with separate sugar and milk with cups and dishes every 3 hours on a silver platter - literally. It was a luxury that stopped at that. The serving had to be done by the people themselves. So, according to some crazy old tradition, the serving had to be done by whoever was the youngest in the room till someone younger than them joined the team. I was stuck with serving for more than a year!

Gossip from a Tea House in Delhi

Anyhow, while making tea for everyone even in the coldest of winter evenings in Delhi, I didn't feel like taking a sip myself. It was simply a matter of taste.

In my new avataar in a corporate company in a new city by the sea full of tinsel dreams, I was happy to skip winter altogether. For the first couple of years I didn't care for tea even when I settled into Bomaby. However, I tried out some raw and Darjeeling tea with friends at coffee shops because, coffee is  another drink I don't indulge in - I still don't. By now there was no one I knew who didn't drink tea or coffee. Life had changed by 360 degrees.

I think it was in 2005 that I started having black or raw tea in the  mornings as an experiment. I tried it with sugar, strong, with honey and then, light and without any condiments. I could not have warm milk by then because, I had developed lactose allergy - Sigh! 

Love and a Cup of Tea

With time I started experimenting and found out the various blends, about the aroma and even different flavors and herbs that go well with tea. It has been a great journey is all I can say. In the last several years we (tea and I) have come a long way. I drink it with salt, honey, sugar, nothing and still love it though milky tea is still a big no. 

Now I cannot imagine mornings and evenings without tea or reading a book or watching Netflix or bad TV at my parents' without a cuppa. 

Tea has this endearing quality like water. It makes you feel full and hydrated, it takes away pimples - the villains from teenage years, it gives you warmth in the coldest of days and keeps you from being thirsty on a hot day. You can drink it hot or cold and as a fancyass drink at a high-end cafe.

Storm outside an Icy Teacup

Since we started our journey together, tea and I have traveled back to Delhi, taken highs with lows and gone through life as best friends. I have written poems and clicked enough pictures of my teacups from across India to stand testimony to our love. I have felt it give me support and warmth in the coldest of situations and let me breathe when the dementors came to suck my happiness. It has been my Patronus and light in the darkest of days - sorry for the Potter references but, somehow there's no other way to explain this better. 

Love aka Mad Hatter's Tea Party

Tea may not be someone's whiskey but, it does better. It gives you courage and strength by letting you regroup your thoughts. It doesn't addle your brain and it does not judge you for being poor. You can still buy your cup of happiness from the local stall for 5 bucks.

Tea may not have made me rethink my life but, it has given me courage to face it without fear on winter mornings when the world is freezing but, you have to drive 35 km one way in the fog to reach work and come back in worse light. One cup before leaving and thinking of another waiting for you when you get to your destination is enough to keep you going. It is like Birbal ki Khichri really. It lets you survive the worst. (If you don't know what I am talking about, please click on the link to read.)

Birbal ki Khichri 

I think Indians should make tea their national drink because it reminds me of Birbal ki Khichri when I see the crowd around a tea stall in winters - people with little hope and kids with almost no warm clothes hold on to their small plastic cups tightly to let heat seep into their hands and let their imagination take over. 

Imagination is such a big champion of the will to continue when reality looks like death on testosterone. Tea lets you dream that you are warm, among friends and at home - the aroma, the warmth and the smile that it brings to your lips on a cold winter evening or when you are completely soaked by Monsoon rains and have bone aching fever. In your imagination tea changes the bleak and the drab to something possible to surmount because there is still love all around you. Tea is magic in a cup. I am glad that I found it when I did because, as a child I never lacked magic in my life but, as an adult I was desperately in need of some that did not make my mind hallucinate chemically.

And no, I wouldn't want to mix tea with politics because look at where it has taken America. They now want a Wall like the Chinese. I believe tea is more of an icebreaker than a wall maker and the country that started its journey with a tea party and the country that introduced tea to the world both threw up politicians that believe in walls for safety. Come on guys where's your heart? Sometimes I worry that with a chaiwallah as a PM, India too maybe heading for a wall - or maybe not.

But, whatever it may be, with wall or without, here's saying cheers to chai!

Of a Freezing Delhi and Birbal ki Khichri Retold

"Happy new year aunty!"
"Happy new year Shoma... Though it does not feel too much of a happy new year if you ask me. It is altogether too depressing."

Yes, it is too depressing but, so is winter every year in Delhi. As the temperature plummets dangerously close to the cut-off even those who profess to 'love' the freeze, start feeling the pinch and believe me there are only a few who actually love winters when the Sun hides itself behind multiple layers of smog and if you please - clouds.

Cold and dismal days of January when you feel as if the end of world is near is not unusual in Delhi and it is something no one looks forward to either. Just like no one looks forward to the harsh summers.

Today as I sit covered from head to toe in layers of woollies, I feel suffocated and irritated.

Last night as I was entering home, I saw the watchmen of our housing society stuffed into multiple layers of winter wear stoking dead embers on a large iron skillet-like basin that is normally used by masons to mix cement. I stood near the 'fire' for a minute trying to absorb the warmth that I realized was actually non-existent given that the temperature was 4 degrees Celsius or less and the wind blowing in was sharp as a razor blade.

It reminded me of a favorite story that I loved to read and hear while growing up and I shared it with the poor shivering men who listened to it sagely nodding their heads - probably too frozen to understand but, being impolite to a resident is not an option for them. Simply titled, 'Birbal's Khichri' it is one of the many tales from the famous, 'Witty anecdotes of Birbal', a courtier of Emperor Akbar.

It goes thus;

Once on a bleak winter morning during Akbar's regime, a thief was caught and brought to the Emperor's durbaar, court of justice at Faehpur Sikri near Agra - not too far from Delhi. Since his crime was not huge he could not be thrown into the dungeon. The just king decided to award him a punishment that would set an example and deter other criminals. So, he came up with a unique idea after much soul-searching.

Emperor Akbar

"Take him to the bank of Yamuna in the evening, strip him off his warm clothes then, tie him on a scaffolding and let him chill there the entire night."

Now, Birbal who was one of the Emperor's advisers was appalled at the decision. "But, he'll surely die of cold," he begged on the thief's behalf.

But, the emperor was in no mood to relent and thus, the poor man was sent off to an almost-certain death for a paltry crime.

The next morning Akbar woke up with a bad feeling about his decision and asked after the plight of the poor thief. Upon his asking the young rogue was brought into the court. He looked chapped and blue round the edges but, was alive and mostly healthy apart from a bad sneeze or two manifesting itself at close intervals.

The amazed Emperor asked how he survived the cold and the boy said that he was saved by the king himself. Upon hearing this seditious declaration by the rascal, the Emperor roared, "What nonsense!" or something of the sort and asked, "how?"

"Sire, while I was being tied up and left to freeze by the river side, I asked my gaoler to tie me up facing the palace with my back to the river bank. He agreed and I was tied up in a manner that I was left facing your chambers in the palace that was ablaze all night and kept warm by the lights of a thousand lamps and fire burning in the hearth."

Hearing this the king probably started feeling even more guilty and said, "stop describing the warmth in my chambers and tell the court here how did I save you?"

The poor thief overcome by fear and fatigue now spilled the beans saying, "I looked at your chambers all night thinking of the heat and comfort and did not allow my mind to dwell on the bitter cold and the thick fog rising from the river and I survived. So, I thought I'll thank you for your generosity and for saving my life."

Now, instead of having the humbling effect, this speech left the king feeling silly because in his mind, his own strategy to 'set an example' had backfired. So, after a lot of stern stares and deep breaths, the emperor ordered, "throw him into a dungeon because he avoided his punishment."

The entire court was rendered speechless but no one spoke up knowing well that the king was angry and saying anything would incur the wrath of the angry Baadshah upon them. Birbal who was also present at the durbar decided to take matters into his own hands and strategise a way out for the young thief.

When the next morning dawned clear, the Emperor, refreshed by a trouble-free sleep in his warm quarters appeared at the court and at once saw that Birbal was missing in attendance. He at once inquired and was told that the courtier was unwell and therefore taking rest at home.

The king, who was very fond of Birbal decided to visit him after the day's judgments had been delivered.

When Akbar reached Birbal's home in the evening, he found that Birbal was all alone at home since his family was visiting relatives in a distant place. Akbar was shown to the backyard by a bearer where Birbal was supervising the cooking of his dinner.

Akbar was at once shocked and irritated at the sight that greeted him upon his arrival. Birbal had concocted a small spit-fire over which a vessel was hung at least 10 feet above ground in which apparently the food was being cooked.

"What is this nonsense?" The emperor roared which made Birbal turn around and almost trip on his pointy, jewel-encrusted mojris.

Birbal

"Welcome to my humble abode O' Emperor of Hindustan! I'm sorry I could not appear in the court today due to my illness and am also sorry that I was not there in the house to welcome you since I have to supervise the cooks as my wife is not in town and she hates if I enter her kitchen."

"I see!" Was all that the Emperor opined to the flowery speech that was totally unlike Birbal to make. The intelligent man had no doubt realized that there was more to come.

"Why don't you join me for dinner tonight O' Badshaah? I'm getting prepared 'khichri' and though it is not much I'd be really obliged if you accept this humble request from your humble servant."

"Hmmm... and how long do you think will you need to cook this 'khichiri dinner'?" The Emperor asked pointing at the vessel hung high in the air far away from the fire-pit.

"By my calculations, if the thief was able to survive the chilly night being kept hot by the heat of  your majesty's chambers that were at least a mile off then by that rule, my dinner should be ready in...:"

"I should have known this was coming," said the humbled king who was actually kindhearted and just and thus, rushed back to the palace with Birbal in tow and calling the royal gaoler asked for the young thief to be released immediately while the king and his able and witty courtier settled down for a scrumptious meal cooked by the royal bawachis.

PS: The last part - about the royal banquet - was totally a figment of my imagination and I tacked it to the story only because the thought of warm and delicious food is the only thought that keeps my heart warm in the deadly cold, which in turn keeps my bones from freezing.

Keep happy, keep healthy and may your minds be full of stories and life full of love to keep you warm. Wishing everyone, "Happy winters" because if you imagine, it will happen. So, go on, think of this as a happy time and wait for a month - then this too shall be over!