Tea in the Time of a Pandemic

Hello again dear friends, and all good wishes for a healthy, happy and prosperous year ahead. I'm delighted to present Shona Bagai's first contribution to the blog. Her story touches the heart and brings comfort in a way that only a tea story can. Read on!

by Shona Bagai

There’s just something calming about a cold winter day, when you have a hot cup of tea in your hand, and watch the snow fall softly to the ground just outside your window.

My mind is a jumble of thoughts today. The world around is in disarray. The pandemic continues to rage on with new names. Even the seasons seem to be in turmoil on the Pacific west coast of Canada. First, there was a heat wave this summer. It was followed by floods, only for the coast to be walloped by huge amounts of snow and winter storms. So many things are as they should not be.

All pix by author

My thoughts wander back to the cup of tea in my hand. I’m beginning to ration the loose-leaf black tea I usually bring back from India. I haven’t been home in over two years. I’ve dug out the reserve stock of tea. It doesn’t matter that it’s really dated. My father, of course, would consider it undrinkable, and unthinkable that the tea is past its prime. I still remember their visit to us one year. He took one whiff of the tea I had made and told me the batch was over a year old. No surprise. His connection with tea has spanned over half a century. He would know.

As a teenager I remember wanting to take a dive under the nearest table when we went places and, God forbid, somebody served us a bad cup of tea. There was a silent shaking of heads, some cluck-clucking, and wondering what the world was coming to.

Over the years though, I found the ritual of my mother’s tea-making very comforting. Whenever I am in Assam, the tea is still served in a tray lined with a delicate lace trimmed embroidered cloth. The beautiful teacups and saucers are perfectly lined up. The water is just right, as is the measure of the tea leaves. The time to brew is exact. 

It was always fun when my father was entrusted with the job of playing timekeeper. He would get lost in thought or conversation and the minutes would tiptoe by. The tea would over brew, and he would be reprimanded like an errant schoolboy for being neglectful. He tried switching the wrist on which he wore his watch so he would be more alert but even that wasn’t foolproof. Then there was the timer on the phone. Now a sand hourglass has replaced my father’s time keeping efforts (I could swear the tea always tasted better with the added drama though). Anyhow, once the tea has been steeped to the minute, the tea cozy is taken off, and the brew is poured carefully into the waiting cups. It is followed by a few drops of milk and some sugar. With the passing years, however, the quantity of sugar or the lack of it was dictated more by girth than by taste.

Now this ritual seems to belong to another world. In fact it is. Yet, it never felt that way when I was able to travel home every year. Across the expanse of land and sea that divides my two homes, I still drink my cup of tea, but with half the fanfare. I’m not even sure I know where my tea cozy is. My kettles are out of reach. And, as I sit nursing my cup of tea, I long for the tea my father helps make, and the cup that my mother brews. In our home, there’s isn’t one without the other. It’s the perfect blend.

Meet the writer:

Shona is a Chai Ka Baby who now lives in the west coast of Canada. She is currently an elementary school teacher but has worked as a journalist in the past. She was with The Telegraph and The Asian Age and has authored several non-fiction books for children. Some of her fondest memories are of her childhood and adulthood time spent in Assam and Dooars.

Is this your first visit here? Welcome to Indian Chai Stories! 

Do you have a chai story of your own to share? Send it to me here, please : indianchaistories@gmail.com. 

 

My name is Gowri Mohanakrishnan and I'm a tea planter's wife. I started this blog because one of the things that I wouldn't want us to lose in a fast changing world is the tea story - a story always told with great seriousness, no matter how funny - always true (always), maybe a tall tale, maybe long, short, impossible, scary, funny or exciting but never dull. You will find yourself transported to another world! 
 
Happy reading! Cheers to the spirit of Indian Tea!
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