An open letter to Masala Chai.

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Dear Masala Chai,

There are many major milestones in life. The first time you stand up and walk on your own, the first day in school, the 16th birthday, the day you move out from your parents home and your first job to list a few. They stand as markers as you transition from one phase of life to another.

The big one for me, when I felt like I had really grown up, was when I tasted you for the first time and enjoyed it, my first real cup of masala chai.


Strange things happen to a young boy as he flows through puberty, his voice deepens, his mood becomes more turbulent, hormones rage and facial hair begins to appear(or so I’m told, didn’t really experience the last one). Amongst these changes also blossoms his first love, when someone or something which earlier seemed so trivial and bland and aroused in him no real emotion; suddenly captures his sanity and rules over his thoughts from dusk till dawn. You were that something for me, my sweet Masal Chai. In my boyhood you seemed so unappealing; your flavours too harsh, your aroma too pungent and overpowering. My boyish heart thought such low lives like Bournvita and Rasna were your clear superior and much more worthy of my affection. But with age, I was blessed with wisdom and I could see you for what you truly were. 


The divine infusion of leaves carefully picked in the hills of Assam and Darjeeling, mixed in expert proportions with milk and a consortium of flavours whose true composition will always remain trade secrets. The sweet smell of cardamom, the lingering taste of cinnamon and the godly touch of just a pinch of black pepper, no more and certainly no less. All mixed in a piping hot solution with enough sweetness to melt even the cruellest of hearts. When you are prepared by expert hands, you truly are a work of art my dear. One that can be enjoyed at all occasions and at all times of day.


I have never truly thanked you for being there for me, at the hardest of times. During those long nights of gruelling study for exams I had no hopes of doing well in but marshalled on anyways because of the courage you gave me, through those long and often lonely walks where the only thing spurting me on was a promise of another cup and those dreadful Tuesday mornings when the weekend was still far away but my fatigue had already arrived, early as always. Often when the world seemed too dark and bleak for words and nothing seemed to matter, a sip of your divine brew saved me. Gave me strength and energy I did not know I possessed.


Masala Chai, life can be long and uncertain and I might not always be who I am today. But I promise you that day will never come when I pass on you for that elitist prick they call Green Tea or that drink of the streets we know as Coffee. My heart is bound to you, forever and always. You will always be my drink and I will always be those lips that sip on you.


Yours lovingly,

CR

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