Celebrating Chai

A peaceful large cup of tea, early in the morning at 5:30 am, has become a sort of ritual for me over the years.  This is the time, when my wife and I sit together for 15 minutes of lull before the stormy routine of the day overwhelms us. It would be 15 minutes of tete-e-tete; 15 minutes of gossip sharing; 15 minutes of problem resolution; 15 minutes of making up for an unresolved conflict of the previous day; or 15 minutes of sheer togetherness in silence. The ubiquitous cup of tea has been a witness to all the ups and downs of our family life. Happy International Tea Day.

My most vivid memories of tea obsession go back to my school and college canteens where we started off with a 'Paunia' chai - meaning a three-fourth cup.  My passion for tea has since traversed through from 'Paunia' of Kanpur to 'By-two' tea in Bangalore. In between, I also had a flavour of 'Cutting' tea in Mumbai, during my frequent sojourns to the city.

Back to my school days in Kanpur, we had a famous Tea-joint called 'Banarasi Tea Stall' at Motijheel  - where we had spent numerous evenings with friends, standing on the roadside with our cycles, blocking half the road. The Banarasi Chai with a topping of thick cream (Malaai, to be precise) was not only a local landmark, it was also a defining moment for us - having literally arrived at the place with a small pocket money. I am not sure if the place still exists, or if it still has that small town charm, or if it has turned into a multi-story restaurant with no place for the cycling middle-class.

During my early childhood, we were some of the few lucky ones who got to drink tea at home. My Mother was fond of tea and did not mind indulging us at an early age. Many of my friends are still reminiscent of their initiation into Tea-culture at my place.  During later years, while in college, when we started socializing amongst friends visiting one another’s homes, the serving of tea always gave me a kick that marked my recognition as a grown up.

Over the years, I have realized that tea as a taste has to evolve. I have tasted tea across countries - from Ceylon to Turkey to Kenya and have realized that it takes time to develop a new taste. It took me some time, over my repeated visits, to develop a taste for the Turkish black tea, served in attractive glass tumbler and saucer.  But above all, I have realized that Tea is one trans-cultural, trans-national, trans-generation, trans-status elixir that assimilates itself with the mood of the consumer. Be it a social gathering, a kitty-party, a serious business meet or a sulking solitude - the Tea blends itself with the mood and stays with you like a faithful friend.

As a famous chain persuades you with its punch line - India Runs on Chai - you only wonder as to what is this fuss all about. Because, Chai is such an integral part of us that we never realized when this got into our DNA. A child grows watching from the cradle as people around keep sipping cups after cup.  And i am sure the curiosity grows with the child into a craving and then ends up into a passion. No wonder that my daughter, when she was 5 year old and still not initiated to Tea, did moan to my wife that she would want to become a mother much sooner - for, then she could drink  as much tea as she would want and that too any time of the day. 

Appraisal by the Milkman

As I opened the door of my flat, early in the morning, to pick up the milk packets I saw the milkman standing right at the door. Not sure if this was a co-incidence or was he just waiting for me to open the door.  He gave a smile and said, “Sir, the service charges increasing by 10% from tomorrow”. I gave him a look, with a question mark on my face.  He grinned at me and said, “Sir, I just now read in the newspaper – your company is giving 10% salary hike this month.” I barely opened my mouth to say something but he interrupted me – Sir, I know you will be 1+ only.  But what is the meaning of this CRR sir? I gave him a squirming smile and banged the door.

Paying up 10% additional service charge was the least that could have bothered me at that time. It was like someone had touched an open wound that had barely dried overnight.  This topic had raised enough of my blood pressure the previous day and I would have best avoided this topic as the first discussion this morning.

 I left the paper on my coffee table in the balcony and went to the bathroom to freshen myself up. As I got back to the coffee table my wife was already there, reading some news very intently. I picked up the city supplement and started reading some masala gossips. And then my wife dropped a bomb. “Listen, you said you got 4% hike – does that mean you are one of the lowest performers in your company?” I was taken aback and gave her a menacing look. “Yes, that is what the newspaper says – that your company has given hike in the range of 4% to 10%. I am surprised that you have to be in the lowest band. Is everything fine?”

I was already piqued at the early morning appraisal by my milkman and to add salt to the injury, my wife was now doing a full review of the same. Luckily, I was able to gather myself quickly and with full composure I declared to her that the news item spoke about the junior folks and that I belonged to the ‘Leadership Layer’ that was a different level. She didn’t seem fully convinced but was perhaps more worried about the whistling pressure cooker on the gas. As she got up to switch off the burner I got hold of the newspaper and to my great relief we moved on from that conversation. 

Together With Nandan..... Finally.

It took me hardly a second to accept an invite from my friend Prathap Menon to join CampaignForNandan group a few months back.   But my support remained passive for a while - the typical dilemma of choosing between the man and the party. In 1977, I was a small school kid but a successful revolution of those times had left a very deep impression on my tender sensibilities – that was difficult to erase even years later with the benefit of a good cognitive intelligence.

In the last few days, I realized that passive support to a cause was indeed as bad as passive smoking. In a typical election, how much does a party affiliation mean to an individual’s campaign was the moot question.  Having observed Nandan at work, it was a no-brainer to decide on the man, it was the party that posed a question mark. True to his style, he will not promise moon but will mitigate some of the miseries. I realized that my long years of support to my party did convert into a positive result every time but my constituency didn’t grow to what I would have liked it to.  I, and perhaps many others like me, have just savoured the glory of putting our votes on a winning candidate and never ever weighed the return on our votes. As they say in cricket – a good batsman is one who puts a price on his wicket.

I am also aware that for my representative to do something good for my constituency, it is important that he aligns with one of the big parties. Staying independent might make a symbolic statement; it has limitations in terms of getting political, administrative or executive attention to my constituency.  Many of us want to do something good but are bogged down with our own lives or simply do not have the courage to stand up. And here is a man, who has shunned the other softer options to get representation and is willing to get to the grassroots level.  I knew, it was time to stand up and be counted when he needed my support.  

One man cannot change our polity overnight but this is a small beginning and we have to make it succeed. We need 542 Nandan’s to clean up the system but we need to first welcome this bold beginning so that other Nandan’s also come forward.  As I said, it may take time to clean up the whole system. But that should not stop us from sowing the saplings now so that our coming generation reaps the fruits. And I joined my other friends this morning – to actively work ‘Together with Nandan’.

Political twist to my dilemma

Like most of my working days, my weekends are also generally packed with household responsibilities.  As my wife also works 6-days a week, we have to manage all our weekly chores on Sundays. Many a times, she takes care of the household and I go out for Monday-to-Sunday shopping. In fact, at times I feel we are so bogged down with this weekly schedule that our family as a whole has become quite asocial.

Whenever I go out shopping alone, my wife would suggest that I take the car instead of walking down.  While I am not a health freak but I do enjoy walking and these short walks to the vegetable market or our local grocery mall is by far the only physical strain I put on myself.  Most of the times, my argument favouring a ‘healthy’ walk prevails over her concern about exposing me to neighbours ‘spouse-labour’ sarcasm.

Over a period, either due to her own pressures of work or the fact that she got used to the routine, she has stopped bothering much about this.  Nevertheless, there is one item that she has always refrained me from shopping for – and that is a broomstick. Not for any special love for Harry Potter but she has ensured that this important piece of our shopping is never done by me alone.  And whether I carry other 4 heavy pieces of our shopping bags, she is the one who carries this piece always. While I have had no hang-ups about it, I have respected her sentiments on this always.

Some of the recent political events have brought out different connotations of this contentious piece of our shopping list. There has been a political twist to this dilemma of ours. Now, I have argued, that carrying a broomstick should no more be a taboo. It is acquiring a new status in the society, symbolizing awakening of a new political class. The class of non-aligned, upright, honest, path-breaking, new order leaders. Therefore, I should not be denied of a chance of creating my political identity and I should be free to shop for a broomstick without being forced to go by car so that broomstick is just carried from the basement parking to my flat.   ‘AAP’ as a Hindi word carries a lot of respect. I am waiting for the weekend to come when I will carry the broomstick all by myself with élan – with its new found political identity, status symbol and brand.