Going to School

Merry Christmas everyone! Enjoying the hols.? Rajeev Mehra stopped by to share his memories of those magical holidays at 'home' in the tea gardens. You know I love all the stories that 'cha ka baba-baby log' share. Many of you readers will be lost in reminiscence after reading this. Do drop me a line and tell me what your schooldays were like! Cheers! - Gowri

For tea kids who went to boarding school, the tea gardens which were home to us were also synonymous with holidays. In fact, our lives were organised between time spent on the gardens and time at school. It was indeed a magical time for us as our childhood resembled a picture book.

Going to school was a huge undertaking for us as we had to travel afar. All our things needed to be packed for us - personal effects like clothes, sports items, books etc - to last an entire school year. Our parents would lovingly arrange these items while we took stock of where each thing was so that we could find it easily.

My formal schooling began at the age of five and a half years in 1985 at the prestigious boarding school called Saint Paul's School in Jalapahar, Darjeeling. Earlier, I had attended pre-boarding classes at the local Saint Mary's School in Doom Dooma. I used to be dropped at school by the driver in the morning and picked up by him again in the afternoon. On our return, we would stop for "chana". Mummy insisted that "chana" was good for a growing kid and hence, "chana" was a regular item at tea time.

On finishing with Saint Mary's, our options were to either go to the local school in Digboi: Carmel, or to go to some boarding school elsewhere in the country. My parents chose to send us to Saint Paul's School in Darjeeling as it had a good reputation and had been recommended to my father by a colleague. A lot of our friends - other tea kids - went to boarding schools around the country. Popular amongst them were : St Lawrence Sanawar, Sherwood Nainital, Mayo Ajmer and Welhams Dehradun. Later on, the Assam Valley School also joined the ranks.

So there we were, in 1984. I was barely 5, and our parents had decided to enroll me at Saint Paul's School. I had to pass an entrance test for which I was taken to Darjeeling to meet the rector, Mr. Hari Dang. 1984 was also the year that they were changing rectors in school. Mr. Jefferson Anderson Gardener would be taking over from Mr. Dang. 

St Paul's School, Jalapahar, Darjeeling

I remember visiting Mr. Dang in the rectory at Saint Paul's. He ensured my parents that my candidature for the entrance test would be looked into and that I could begin schooling in 1985 in Class One.

Living on the gardens, in Doom Dooma, attending school in Darjeeling was quite an affair. While going to school was by flight on an Indian Airlines airplane from Dibrugarh Airport at Mohanbari, the return was by "school party" via Guwahati. Indeed, the school had instituted a system whereby a Master would accompany a group of children to the nearest airport. We were thus part of the Guwahati school party; the arrangement being that children would be met at the Guwahati Airport or put on 'Night Super' buses by the Master in charge in case they had foward journeys to undertake.

It was thus that I took many a trip on the 'Night Super' bus from Guwahati to Doom Dooma, to be picked up finally by the driver at the local petrol station next to Hansara tea estate and finally driven home. Our arrangements were thus : On the way to school - Flight from Dibrugarh to Bagdogra airport (via Guwahati) or Night Super bus to Guwahati airport and subsequent flight to Bagdogra airport. A bus would be waiting for us at Bagdogra airport to ferry us to school. Roll calls were taken to ensure that all were on board. 

On return from School, School party would drop us at Guwahati airport with parents or put us on the Guwahati - Dibrugarh flight or Guwahati - Doom Dooma Night Super bus. As kids, this was quite an adventure for us.

Usually, when the school party was running the route, we would stay overnight at the Urvashi Airport Hotel. This was an occasion to party with boys from the neighbouring estates and we often got into a celebratory mood. Needless to say, the hotel rooms were trashed by our antics!

School holidays lasted the entire winter season - it was much too cold for us to study in the mountains of Darjeeling, and we had to be let off. The holidays began in the last week of November and ended in the middle of March.

Throughout this period, we were at home, in the plains of Assam, enjoying the winter season with our parents - who themselves told us it was the lean season as far as cultivating tea was concerned.

We would spend our days playing in the bungalow with the servants and our evenings around a log fire in the living room. Often, we would head to the club for a round of squash or a game of golf. Sometimes we ended up playing billiards or would watch a film at the club. The club also had a nice library which was stocked with "Life" magazines and a few novels. I got into the habit of reading, thanks to the club library and because of mummy's insistence.

Winter was also time for the various annual meets of the district clubs and Doom Dooma had one in December. It was a fantastic time where we were supposed to arrive in fancy dress to be adjudged in a competition and take part in the various activities. There were tennis competitions, squash tournaments, Golf tournaments and the Flower Show. There was also a lottery in the evening along with a prize giving ceremony.

Our holidays in tea were extremely enjoyable.

Yes, growing up as a tea kid was a lot of fun. 

Meet the writer: Rajeev Mehra

As I mentioned, our time in Tea was spent  around the town of Doom Dooma, in the Brooke Bond Gardens. My father was earlier in the North Bank area, around Mangaldai and Bishnauth Charali; and even North Lakhimpur - however, we kids grew up in the Doom Dooma area.

I was a toddler in Daimukhia Tea Estate and then grew up in the Hansara, Mesaijan and Fatikjan/Beesakopie bungalows. Schooling was in Darjeeling right from the age of 05 years and a half until 18 at the prestigious St. Paul's boarding school.

After school, I studied International Hotel Management from the Indian Institute of Hotel Management in Aurangabad and came to France to pursue a Masters Course in Hotel Management from Institut Vatel, Nimes. I stayed back to work and am now involved with the Hotel Industry, here in Nimes. On the way, I picked up the French language which is of great use to me professionally. I keep visiting India, and was last in Assam in 2018 for a trip to Shillong, Balipara, Kaziranga and Majuli area - but that will be the subject of a forthcoming story.

 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 in 2018 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! 

This is the link to all the stories on this blog: https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/ Be sure to add it to your list of favourites! Happy reading!! Cheers to the spirit of Indian tea!

 

 

My World in a Teacup

 Dear friends, I am most happy to share this little mood piece by Mansi Chaturvedi. I started reading and was wafted away to a much loved place and another era. Do get yourself a cup of tea before you settle down to lose yourself in Mansi's world. -Gowri

I remember sitting in the verandah of my huge bungalow, amidst the green of the tea garden, where the silence around me was disturbed only by the sound of the falling rain on the roof top and all around me. I remember seeing giving a nice wash to all the plants that I had arranged around my bungalow. There was no one to be seen, I guess they paused work for a while as they were waiting for the downpour to stop.

I was looking out and enjoying the rain, and it is really beautiful to watch it from where I did. The tea tray had been put down and tea was poured out from the tea pot. A few biscuits just as add-ons to enjoy this tea. I have had tea for many years. I remember making it - you know how the Indian masala chai as it is called - is made. It is left to simmer till you are satisfied with the aroma of the fresh ginger in the tea and the colour that you would want it to transform into. Here I was, sitting with someone serving me tea in a proper tea set. It took me a while to realise that this was it, for every time it was brought and served that way, I would feel like a guest in my own house. Why so proper and why do I get a different flavour and colour that I never ever knew tea had? It would get more complicated when I would be told it is tea from 'the first flush'. 'A very delicate flavour', they would say, and I would just sip on it, in the most dainty manner I could.

Tea for me is an addiction, something that I cannot start my day without. Always an early riser, I would quickly have the first cup made all by myself in my way and it would just energise me and I would be ready for the day. But what never changed was having tea in the verandah, looking out at the tea garden around my bungalow and it would just feel like heaven. The silence was something most welcomed by me, coming from a city. Yet to enjoy this silence I needed my companion, my cup of tea. Getting up early, though normal for me, was a punishment for the watchman in my bungalow who never thought he would have to be on his toes so early in the morning. The moment the bungalow servants were in my tea would transform into a different flavour and colour. No matter how many times I would explain to them to get me tea the way I wanted, they would stick to their elaborate serving of tea throughout the day.

Tea was really different in a city and in a tea garden which I realised once I was there. The entire process from tea leaves being plucked, carried to the factory, the aroma of fresh tea being prepared and then getting to taste the tea fresh is an experience in its own. Never did I imagine I would be enjoying tea sitting amidst all the greens in my verandah watching the rain fall and sipping the 'first flush'.

I think many others might relate to this story and experience.

About the writer:

My name is Mansi Chaturvedi. I am based in Kolkata. I am a published writer and a blogger. I had been part of the tea family for 15 years as my husband was working for Tata Tea. We had a wonderful experience in tea gardens both in Dooars and Assam. 

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! 

This is the link to all the stories on this blog: https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/
Be sure to add it to your list of favourites! Happy reading!! Cheers to the spirit of Indian tea!

Caught in a Shootout

 Hello again, dear friends! It’s so good to have another new post on the blog! This is Vijaya Sarmah’s second story here. The first, ‘The Wedding Invitation’ (link in writer’s  bio below ) was a most amusing account of one of those quaint customs that you could only find in a tea garden. This one is in a different vein - and it is a reminder that life in Tea is no picnic! Enjoy your read! -Gowri 

This incident took place when we were in Achabam T.E. of Dibrugarh district.

It was at the time when militancy movements were strong and the entire state was under the Armed Forces Act.

(The AFSPA is now operational only in eight districts of Assam. Dibrugarh is still one of them.) It was hard to believe that in the lush green tea gardens there lurked dangers. That amidst the greneery there were incidents of gunshots and fire. That beneath the placid, serene environment there were terror and trepidation and days were lived in constant fear.

The voice of Bishnu, our chowkidar, woke us up.

I switched on the light and saw the clock showed the time as 2:20 am.

'Sir, army aya hain’, Bishnu said.

I got jittery. Why was the army coming at such uncanny hour? Were they actually army people or dacoits in army fatigues?!

My husband Jayanta however immediately went outside.

I was greatly nervous. I looked at the boys who were sleeping on the bed next to ours.

Thankfully my fears were unfounded, as Jayanta came back and told me an Army officer had come to inform him that there would be a search operation in the garden in the morning and they were waiting for the first light of the dawn.

The army's intelligence wing had got information of some militants hiding in our estate.

At 6 :15 am Jayanta left for office.

It was another rush morning hour for me.

Both the boys were young and needed my help in putting on their school uniforms, buttoning the shirts,wearing the ties, tying the shoe laces.

I had to be on my toes most mornings.

So just like other days I dressed up the boys, packed the tiffins, cheked their bags and finally readied myself for the day.

I worked in the same school ( St. Mary's Naharkatia) where my boys were studying.

Like all other days, I looked forward to the day, my classes, meeting my students and colleagues.

The small incident of the night was completely forgotten in the warmth of the morning sun.

It was like 'Raat Gayi, Baat Gayi '.

At eight a m the Estate School bus honked outside our bungalow. The three of us and the boys' nanny Wahida hurried to the bus.

Younger son Zit's classes got over at 12:30 pm.

Since I had to be in school till 3:30 pm Wahida collected him and returned in the same bus at half time.

The bus made four up and down trips everyday.

Like all other days the bus was full with school children.

There was another teacher from St.Mary's.

So including myself, Wahida, the teacher, one driver and one bus conductor there were five adults.

The rest were all students studying in the town's different schools.

Our bus had moved just a few meters when we heard a commotion.

The driver stopped the bus, as some army men shouted to him 'Bus roko, aage goli chal rahin hai '. ( Stop the bus, shootout is going on ahead) , one soldier said.

It was then that the forgotten incident of the night came to my mind.

So there were actually militants hiding in the estate somewhere amidst the tea bushes.

I was almost in tears.We were caught in a real army shootout. We could not move forward or go backwards. Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. I also had to guard the students, particularly the senior students who wanted to get down from the bus.

It was a hard time controlling the boys.

It was almost forty minutes of breathstopping moments . It was for the first time I felt time going slow. Each minute was like an eon. My heart was in my mouth. We sat helpless inside the bus with only prayers on our lips.

'Please keep the children safe, please let this moment pass'. I pleaded to God.

From the bus window I watched the world outside .

There were no signs of any troubles or turmoil outside.

The tea bushes stood so peacefully . The tall shirish trees stirred in the light morning breeze.The sun was warm and appeasing. The autumn sky was clear and translucent.

It was also for the first time I saw the serenity in the green of the tea bushes and the blue sky.

In the hurried rush pace of my busy schedule I never cared to pause and enjoy the beauties so close to me.

How tranquil is nature's world compared to the world of humans.

Nature is not selfish or greedy like man. Nature has no demands or needs. She gives herself wholly to  spreading happiness in every heart without asking rewards.

In that distressing moments I also realized how uncertain is life .

A stray bullet might fly and hit anyone in the bus that autumn morning.

Just a few minutes previously our petty worries on life and livelihood became meaningless in those few moments.

After forty minutes, the army gave us the All Clear signal and our bus could move.

No one talked, not even the young children who are the most talkative, uttered anything till we reached school.

We reached very late and had to make  a long explanation to the school authorities.

Meet the writer:

Vijaya Sarmah 

It's been twenty two years in tea. I used to write one or two poems here and there for my college magazine but that was all. I did my Masters in English from Guwahati University.

Worked in local schools, wherever my husband got posted  - sadly nowhere more than two years - from Hatigor Army School to Bagrakote Army School in Dooars, then Naharkatia St. Mary's, again at Shankardev  Bidya Niketan, in Mazbat, Assam. 

 

We have two boys, both live away from home. I don't work anywhere at present, like to wield my pen now and then as I have nothing much to do in the house. I've published some poems in The Assam Tribune and  The Woman's Era magazine.

Read all Vijaya’s stories here: https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/search/label/Vijaya%20Sarmah

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 in 2018 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! This is the link to all the stories on this blog: https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/ Be sure to add it to your list of favourites! Happy reading!! Cheers to the spirit of Indian tea! 

Tea Party

 Hello again, dear friends! Gayathri Ramachandran is back with an invitation to a tea party, so off we go! Cheers to all of you, and thank you, Gayathri! - Gowri 

by Gayathri Ramachandran

“Hey, Let’s discuss this over a cup of Chai”. The Americans say, "Over a cup of coffee". The British say, "Over a cuppa!" What do the Chinese, and especially, the Japanese, say? They are the original inventors of the elaborate Tea Ceremony.

In the time-honoured Tea ceremony, Japanese chadō or sadō (“way of tea”) or cha-no-yu (“hot-water tea”) is rooted in the Zen principles of Harmony, Respect, Purity and Tranquillity. Tea has its unique identity and recognition in various parts of India - Theneer, chaya, chaha, Cha, Cheeya and Chai in Indian languages.

Tea served in style

After we moved to Coimbatore from Delhi, Ooty - the Queen of Hills - beckoned us to the cool climate, lush tea gardens, and mainly the mountain air. What a change from the heat and dust; the shivers and biting cold of Delhi! The tree plantations in Coonoor are very lush in growth and grown at elevations of almost 2500 metres above sea level. The special Nilgiri tea is unique in its taste and aroma.

credit: Coonoor Tea Factory

Tea tasting is akin to wine tasting. I have been to the wine tasting rooms in Coonoor, and in the vineyards in Australia and the USA.

The sommeliers swirl the wine around their mouths with their eyes closed in exhilaration “AAh’. Something like ‘Wah Taj’.

Tea tasters are highly disciplined. They preserve their taste buds and olfactory senses by abstaining from smoking of any kind and staying away from drinks. I am not punning. They become Teetotallers!

Do we have tea tasting tours in India? Yes, we do!

There are well conducted tea tasting Tours in Assam, Dooars, Munnar and Darjeeling. The tea factory in Coonoor, TANTEA, is a Tamil Nadu government run factory outlet where one can be educated about tea gardens and learn about the history of tea growing in India. TANTEA is one of the biggest black tea producers in India.

I am in awe of Tea Tasters, Tea Sommeliers, Tea Masters and the Tea Connoisseurs. They ensure the quality of tea and standards for identifying different tea samples. One could call me a tea connoisseur. I am a tea enthusiast!

Tea has etched its mark in History

The Tea Party is very much an Indianized concept that the influence of the British is hugely a colonial effect. The setting for ‘High Tea' is in an urbane and relaxed atmosphere. The invigorating golden brew of tea is either steaming hot or chilled, and definitely will take its centre stage served with an assortment of accompaniments such as samosa, murukku, pakoras, vada-pav, gol gappa, alu-chaat, cheese-toast and the very enticing thin-cucumber sandwich. The various chutneys and fillers that find an honorary position on the high-tea table are the excruciating ‘tests’ for the culinary expertise of the hostess. Many would definitely go through countless, sleepless nights!

The invitations for chaat parties, birthday parties, get-together parties, tea parties, keg party, socials, hen-party, soiree, masquerade and just house party, kept us busy in the social circuits during the 50 years of life in New Delhi.

It is said that there is a wide difference between high tea afternoon tea. Afternoon tea was a ritual in Britain in the early 18th century consisting of finger- sandwiches, scones, tea cakes and sweet pastries, cream and jam.

 Another version is 'Open House’. The all-time favourites in the form of steaming or cold tea, coffee and cocktails and mocktails are served with élan and flair. Life in Delhi introduced us to many stories from tea plantations and those who cherish their tea gardens and their life style.

In 2014 my husband and I moved from New Delhi to Coimbatore, at the foothills of the Western Ghats. I am fortunate to have been introduced to tea gardens in Coonoor, Ooty, Munnar and Valparai and also to those wonderful people who work there and manage the plantations. Our much-awaited getaway from city life is always in one of these awe-inspiring places. Anaimalai and Valparai, the Sinna Dorai Bungalow and the Peria Dorai Bungalow that are known for providing extraordinary comfort, squeaky-clean ambience and the delicious cuisine. The surrounding tea gardens, misty mountains and birds that come to the trees are a visual treat, and a walk through the tea-garden slopes is tremendously refreshing.

Why is it, that the air in the tea garden is not bursting with the aroma of tea? Apple orchards, rose gardens, jasmine gardens and vineyards-- all have their own fragrance.

Pictures of Origin of Tea from Tea Museum and Tea Factory-Coonoor The Highest Tea Factory. In COONOOR

On a lighter note, The Tea House of the August Moon- a comedy film made in 1956 - was my favourite movie. The misfit Captain Fisby is sent to Americanise the village of Tobias in Okinawa to help build a school but the villagers would rather have a tea house!

Meet the writer

Gayathri Ramachandran 

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 in 2018 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! This is the link to all the stories on this blog: https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/ Be sure to add it to your list of favourites! Happy reading!! Cheers to the spirit of Indian tea! 

Tinsukia Town

Hello again, dear readers! It’s great to welcome another new writer to Indian Chai Stories. And there is something very special about the stories told by children who grew up in tea; the Cha ka baba and baby log. I’m sure you will all enjoy reading Rajeev Mehra’s recollections of a cha bagan childhood in Upper Assam. Cheers! - Gowri 

An outing to Tinsukia town was a much awaited feature during my childhood in the tea gardens of Assam. My father was working for the Brooke Bond group of companies that owned the seven gardens around Doom Dooma town : Daimukhia, Hansara, Mesaijan, Samdang, Raidang, Beesakopie and Fatikjan.

During our time in the gardens, we lived in most of these gardens, starting with Daimukhia, moving to Hansara and Mesaijan and then finishing in Fatikjan where dad finished off as the Manager of the two gardens Beesakopie and Fatikjan combined. I was a wee toddler when we were in Daimukhia and grew up to a more conscious age in the Hansara and Mesaijan bungalows.

It was during these childhood years that we developed a passion for the outing to Tinsukia town. These were far and between, as Tinsukia was a good distance away and the road leading to the town wasn't very good near the Makum Junction. Besides, Mum always said that our rations and weekly shopping could be easily procured from Doom Dooma town itself. So, we jumped on every opportunity to head out to Tinsukia. It was a coveted outing and we looked forward to it eagerly, often pestering our parents to take us there.

There were a few main attractions in Tinsukia town that we pined for. The first of them was the Ranglalls shop. This was THE shop to go to to get clothes like Park Avenue Teeshirts and Raymond shirts. We often pestered mum and dad to buy us teeshirts from there.

The other attraction was a Sardarji's shop that we used to go to buy snacks and eatables. We often made a beeline here to get sweets and candies along with Chocolate snacks and Chips from this shop. This was another place that we pestered our parents to bring us to.

The live fish and vegetable market was the other draw in town. We used to love looking at the live fish freshly caught and bought in to the market with the shopkeepers shouting out their prices and quality. We were completely mesmerised in this small and loud microcosm of hawkers peddling their wares, drivers and bearers from neighbouring gardens haggling for a good price for their Memsahibs, Membsahibs themselves inspecting the produce and the public milling to haggle a good bargain.

We often got the Ari and Rohu fish here, which the cook produced in a "planters curry", with potatoes. This was often a meal that we looked forward to and it was a favourite with my brother and me.

And finally, the biggest draw in Tinsukia town was the Highway Restaurant. We would go there for Dosas and Sambhar once in a while and these visits were pined for as we waited days and months for the Tinsukia trip.

All in all, we had a wondrous and exciting childhood in Assam. And we pestered our parents for these outings. It was truly fun living on the gardens and enjoying the "Tea life".

Meet the writer: Rajeev Mehra

As I mentioned, our time in Tea was around the town of Doom Dooma, in the Brooke Bond Gardens. My father was earlier in the North Bank area, around Mangaldai and Bishnauth Charali; and even North Lakhimpur - however, we kids grew up in the Doom Dooma area.

I was a toddler in Daimukhia Tea Estate and then grew up in the Hansara, Mesaijan and Fatikjan/Beesakopie bungalows. Schooling was in Darjeeling right from the age of 05 years and a half until 18 at the prestigious St. Paul's boarding school.

After school, I studied International Hotel Management from the Indian Institute of Hotel Management in Aurangabad and came to France to pursue a Masters Course in Hotel Management from Institut Vatel, Nimes. I stayed back to work and am now involved with the Hotel Industry, here in Nimes. On the way, I picked up the French language which is of great use to me professionally. I keep visiting India, and was last in Assam in 2018 for a trip to Shillong, Balipara, Kaziranga and Majuli area - but that will be the subject of a forthcoming story.

 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 in 2018 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! 

This is the link to all the stories on this blog: https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/ Be sure to add it to your list of favourites! Happy reading!! Cheers to the spirit of Indian tea!

Margaret’s Hope - A Darjeeling Legend

 Hello again, dear readers! Today, I'm delighted to welcome another new writer to Indian Chai Stories. Thank you, Aditi, for telling us this lovely story of how a Darjeeling tea garden got its name. -Gowri

by Aditi Chakraborty

J.G.D. Cruickshank was the manager of Bara Ringtong Tea Estate in Darjeeling, between 1896-1927. His English family was awestruck by its picturesque setting amidst the Himalayas, little hills carpeted with tea shrubs and abundantly endowed with a variety of lichens and orchids.

His young daughter Margaret loved to walk through the tea gardens and spend her days outdoors. There was a little lake mirroring the blue sky. She loved to rest by it and watch the floating clouds and the fog descending on its waters, and she wrote her little diary.

Margaret fell in love with the estate and when she left for home in England, she left her heart in the hills and promised to return soon. The little girl died of a tropical disease on ship. Soon after, Cruickshank thought he had a vision of Margaret on the estate grounds. In memory of his daughter, he renamed the estate Margaret’s Hope.

Another version of the story that is popular with the locals goes like this. Margaret had a lung condition which worsened and she never recovered from it. One day her father told her that there was talk of laying a railway track on the hills and she requested him to make sure it would go by the estate. When she was very ill and couldn’t step outside, she would lie on her bed and look out of the large French windows hoping for the toy train to go whistling by. But she died soon after. The track ran close to the garden and the toy train did whistle by but her hope to ride a train in Darjeeling remained unfulfilled.

The other story narrated by the tea pickers is that Mr. Cruickshank had once said that he felt his dear daughter’s presence in the garden and eventually a couple of staff claimed to have seen her apparition. And the legend was born.

Today, Margaret’s Hope is owned by Goodricke group and is a much sought after tourist site. I enjoyed the trip to the plantation and like most days, when a film of mist covered the gardens, I thought of this young English girl’s spirit that haunts the green hills. I see her in my mind, sleeping, waking and walking her endless journey in the hope of finding her little dream, with passage of time forgetting the purpose of her wandering. She is like the mist on the hills, mysterious and much fabled.

Meet the writer:

 Aditi Chakraborty is a storyteller who remarkably paints a captivating narrative. Coupled with her undying passion to travel and meet new personalities, her journey of life has collectively shaped her thoughts that are often expressed vividly in her writing. Chakraborty has worked in the media, lifestyle and education industries across various cities in India and abroad. She holds a degree from FORE School of Management and Nottingham Trent University.

 

 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 in 2018 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!

This is the link to all the stories on this blog: https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/ Be sure to add it to your list of favourites! Happy reading!! Cheers to the spirit of Indian tea!

Bungalows that became homes

Hello again, dear readers!

Delighted to welcome you all to take a Sunday evening ramble with Gumi Malhotra. When I read this lovely little tale by Gumi, I was transported to another time and place …as I’m sure you will be. Don’t lose any time before you start reading, because you do want to be back in time for that cup of tea!! Cheers! - Gowri

by Gumi Malhotra

Transfers in tea meant a change or tweak in work environment for the husband, a different club for games, a new set of friends for us but most importantly for me, a new home. There was excitement and trepidation in equal measure about the new abode. I’m saying new but the bungalows we moved into had seen a multitude of families and bachelors make these handsome and somewhat weathered rooms into households.

The thrill of seeing an antique writing table, a new refrigerator and a well landscaped garden fully compensated for a rusted bathtub or a gloomy kitchen, the latter of which I luckily never saw much of!

Each family left something of themselves in these homes. Nails on the walls, which were dealt ferociously with pliers and paint, but occasionally one spotted sweet reminders of past inhabitants in the form of tiny marks on the wall marking the height progression of growing children. In tradition, one enjoyed a favorite dish of the previous family taught to the cook by the lady of the house.

There will always be a special house for all of us, for me it was the Chota bungalow in Nahortoli TE. It was a small cottage with the most charming garden which transformed from shades of green in summer to a blaze of colour in winter. This was Imaan’s first home where he had his first chaotic birthday party and like every hapless kid in tea, adults far outnumbered the children and alcohol flowed more freely than orange squash!

We spent three idyllic years in this bungalow and I would like to believe that it will always be a bit of mine.

Meet the writer: Gumi Malhotra

Hello chai people, here’s another attempt to pen down one of the million memories I carry with me. We came away twelve years ago with our hearts full ( not so much the pocket) of such nuggets. We live in Bangalore now and what started as a hobby in the gardens has become my calling. I paint pet portraits. The happiest days spent in tea were in the Jali kamra with my paints, the boys occupied with make believe cars and a steady stream of tea flowing from the kitchen. Cheers!

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 in 2018 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! This is the link to all the stories on this blog: https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/ Be sure to add it to your list of favourites! Happyreading!! Cheers to the spirit of Indian tea!

A Coffee Lover’s take on Tea!

Hello again, dear friends! Please welcome Rajan Mani to Indian Chai Stories. Thank you, Rajan, for sharing your thoughts with all of us. Goes to show there’s a world of stories in every cup of tea! Cheers! - Gowri 

by Rajan Mani

At the outset, this title sticks out like a sore thumb, doesn’t it? After all, what is coffee doing in a collection of tales full of chai ka bagan and chai? My defence is that it is an attempt to give a different perspective.

I grew  up in Delhi, but in a pakka TamBram family – so it was pretty much in line that coffee would be the beverage that would kick-start the day. Not just coffee, but filter kaapi made from roasting coffee seeds just so, then powdering the seeds in a contraption called a coffee grinder and then creating a decoction which when mixed with milk and sugar in my mother’s own formula would generate a heady elixir.

My parents belonged to an era where instant coffee was just entering India and Nescafe and the like were not just recognized by them. In fact there is a story in our extended family circle, probably apocryphal, that a prospective marriage alliance got grounded because one of the parties served (hold your breath!) cups of instant coffee rather than filter coffee. During my graduation, my love affair with coffee continued, but a two year stint in Jamshedpur for my PG in management introduced me to tea and varieties of it. We had a small tea stall just outside the hostel and Fazal, the guy who ran it spiced up especially our winter afternoons with his elaichi chai and adhrak chai. It definitely made me take a relook at chai.

Corporate life gave me a totally new view of how tea divided and how it categorized! My first assignment was in a company with British partnership which made bicycles and my stint at the factory helped me understand how the cup in which it was served made a difference. Workers on the shopfloor would be given their cuppa in small steel tumblers, their supervisors would get the same brew in mugs with handles, officers and managers would get cups on saucers with their tea and for the top brass, tea would be served by a liveried waiter with the ingredients separate and mixed to taste in front of each big man.

The stint in sales which followed was a different learning experience and I found that tea was a more palatable drink than the ‘Nescoffee’ latte which many dealer friends wanted to give me, because ‘aap South se hain’! Our biggest dealer in Pune, I found, had a pecking order using tea for the sales people who called on him.

The starting level was chai – ordinary tea from the neighbouring tea stall in the stall’s cups, not particularly clean and maybe even with a crack or two. People who were more useful to Popatbhai would get ‘chai, special cup me’ – he had given a set of his crockery to the tea shop! The next promotion was to ‘special chai, special cup me’ – special chai meant more sugar and some spices in the brew. The ultimate level was Popatlal Seth calling someone home for a sumptuous Marwari meal!

I have realized from all this experience that tea is not just tea. There is a huge difference between tea from different locations and between dust tea, leaf tea and tea from tea bags, but though I have a prominent sweet tooth, I draw a line at the ‘khadi chamach’ chai of some areas in Maharashtra. The brew is so thick and has so much sugar in it that a spoon can literally stand vertically in the cup. It just isn’t, well, my cup of tea!

Starting from being just a kaapi drinker, I am now equally comfortable with either tea or coffee though I must confess that my day starts only when filter kaapi courses through my veins! For me, as somebody said, it is still ‘Coffee is a beverage, but kaapi is an emotion’.

Meet the writer:

Rajan Mani

Rajan Mani is a Dilli wala Madrasi who is now settled in Chennai. His management degree took him to a sales career, but halfway through,  he got off the bus and became a Prof in a B-school. He uses his retirement usefully by pretending to help his wife, whistling old Hindi songs and composing bad limericks.

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 in 2018 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!

This is the link to all the stories on this blog: https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/ Be sure to add it to your list of favourites! Happy reading!! Cheers to the spirit of Indian tea!

“Chai Pe Charcha” : My thoughts on tea

Hello friends! Here is Story #3 to mark “Birthday month” at Indian Chai Stories! A hearty welcome to Gayathri Ramachandran. “To a South Indian brahmin, coffee is intrinsic to life, but tea was anathema….In the land of tea from the Nilgiris, Munnar and Valparai, how could they feel this way?” asks Gayathri. Thank you for sharing your lovely memories, Gayathri!! You took me back to another time and place with the beautiful photograph of your grandmother. 😀 - Gowri

by  Gayathri Ramachandran

Friends promised to drop in for 'high tea' on Saturday and my thoughts turned to what I had been reading recently - interesting accounts of life during the British era in the various tea gardens of India.

Then I dwelt in my mind on what life was like during my grandfather's time in Valparai and Pollachi. I have heard that my grandfather Mr TS Mani Iyer and his younger brother Natesan Iyer had a transport Company in Pollachi which transported chests of tea from Valparai to various places.  There is a street named after my grandfather : 'Mani Iyer Street' ( now called Mani Street), running parallel to the Railway Station at Pollachi.  Natesan Company still has its outpost in Kallidai Kurichi in Tamil Nadu.  My father narrated anecdotes of Naachimuthu Kaunder ( father of Sri Mahalingam) who worked for my grandfather.

I had my early childhood in the sprawling house of my grandfather Mr Mani Iyer in Pollachi. At times we used to accompany him to Top Slip. Mr elder brother Suresh and I would spend our play time sliding down on the grass and watch gleefully as the 'Touch me Not' closed to our touch!!

My grandmother Janaki, who served tea to 'Doraisanis' of Valparai!

One of my aunts, Balammma, would give me interesting accounts of how my grandmother, clad in the traditional nine yards sari, would entertain her British guests - the 'dorasanis' - to tea with impeccable taste and grace both Valparai and Pollachi houses! The tea, I am sure, is the Valparai tea. To a South Indian brahmin, coffee is intrinsic to life but tea was anathema for a very long time. In the land of tea from the Nilgiris, Munnar and Valparai, how could they feel this way?

Valparai

Traditionally, coffe is served in brass / stainless steel or pure silver tumblers and dawara, wheareas tea has the dubious distinction of being served in glass tumblers or porcelain cups. It is believed that tea tastes better when served in porcelain. There should be a 'Tea Ceremony' in the households that serve tea. The golden brew deserves a good treatment!! 

I was brought up on a diet of coffee till I moved to New Delhi after marriage. Tea became the 'word' gaining all importance. Living among the Punjabis, this exotic beverage became a centre point in socialising during wintry afternoons. I was introduced to kadak chai, adhrak chai, masala chai, cardomom chai, green chai and white chai.White tea is costlier than the other vareities of tea. This amazing fact dawned on me when my daughter in law Ruchi presented me with a packet of white tea. In Ooty there is a government run facility which entertains and educates the visitors on the process of how the deftly picked tea leaves become the final product..from procuring the tea leaves to its journey of becoming a magic drink. There they even treat you to a 'cuppa' as you leave the factory.

Whenever I visit Valparai, I wonder if there is any such facility there! Tea brewing is a special art…you can boil tea leaves in water and milk and make it really sweet with fair amount of sugar and sometimes a few bits of ginger to alleviate headache, cold or that bone chilling winter weather! Chai Pe Charcha, with friends, also taught me how to make that delectable beverage for the morning or afternoon in the true British style. In boiling water just sprinkle a teaspoon of tea and close it with a lid. After a few seconds, strain the golden coloured brew and have it with milk/honey/ sugar!! Voila!! There's the 'delightful cuppa' that you can have with tea biscuits or tea cake as the British planters did it in Valparai. 

With Meenu Nair who so efficiently manage Valparai Sinna Dorai Bungalow. We had an awesome stay and tasted the best brewed tea!

‘Chai hojaye!' is a familiar sweet music welcomed with cheer while you play cards or just have some plain 'gup shup'. Oh! my taste for tea grew and the bitter 'after taste' of coffee was replaced with the milder invigorating drink. Tea finally arrived in my life. I enjoy tea in various forms, white, green or golden, with or with out milk, sweet or just black!!! Living in Delhi, the plethora of brands of tea made my head dizzy! Darjeeling, Ananda, Chai Chun, Tetleys, Nilgiri or Kannan Devan but after coming to our own land of tea gardens in the Western Ghats, I became a connoisseur of tea from Ooty and Valparai. I delight in sending packages of tea to my family in Delhi and Mumbai. For friends, nothing can be better than a gift of Nilgiri tea with a note on how to prepare it!!!

Meet the writer

Gayathri in Coimbatore

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 in 2018 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! 

This is the link to all the stories on this blog: https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/ 
Be sure to add it to your list of favourites! Happy reading!! Cheers to the spirit of Indian tea!

The Louis Mandelli Saga – Continued!

Hello again, dear friends! 

Here’s the second of the three stories I promised you this birthday month! Two years ago, Sarita Dasgupta told us the story of Louis Mandelli, the nineteenth century Italian tea planter and ornithologist from Darjeeling. Today she tells us more about the Mandelli family…in another era!!

Thank you, Sarita😀!!

by Sarita Dasgupta

 
When I wrote my story about Louis Mandelli, little did I dream the amount of interest it would arouse and what it would lead to!

I decided to write about Louis Mandelli because firstly, I was intrigued by the fact that he was the only Italian tea planter I had heard of, and secondly, being a bird-lover myself, I was impressed by the fact that as an amateur but enthusiastic ornithologist, he had discovered hitherto undocumented Himalayan bird species which were subsequently named after him. And now, what the article led to…

Firstly…

Louis’ great-great-grandson, Jason Mendelli, based in Japan, came across my story while researching his lineage. He emailed Gowri, our editor, who forwarded his email to me, and I replied. This led to a further exchange of information, which, with his permission, I am now sharing with the readers.

Louis Mandelli and his wife, Ann, had two sons and three daughters. One of the sons, Louis Hildebrand Robert, joined the Railways as a travelling ticket collector, and rose to become Station Master in Darjeeling. He and his wife, Alice, had a son in August 1893, and christened him Louis Herbert Francis.

Not much is known about Louis Herbert Francis, except that he was a Commercial Traveller (travelling salesman) and lived in Kolkata during the latter part of his life. There, he had a relationship with a lady called Nora, and a son was born to them on 3 October 1923. He was baptized Norman Melville Louis Mandellie on 5 January 1924 at the Church of the Sacred Heart, Dharmatala, Kolkata.

Jason with his father Norman

Norman grew up in Kolkata and went to school in Lucknow. He joined the police force as an officer, and was stationed with a group of Gorkhas in an outpost on the northern border of India. Norman told Jason about being attacked by around a hundred horse-riding marauders wielding knives. Fortunately, he survived but was haunted by the memories of this traumatic event for the rest of his life.

Norman left India for the USA in the early 1950s and lived there for some years before moving to London. He worked for an aeronautical company in his earlier years, and then managed a psychiatric hospital. He married a lovely lady called Yvette, and they had seven children, Jason being one of them.

Jason grew up in London, and worked in the film industry. He then moved to Japan with his wife, Yoko, and daughter, Emma, and is currently writing his first book.

Jason, Emma and Yoko

Secondly…

The Consul-General of Italy in Kolkata, Dr Gianluca Rubagotti, was researching Italians who had contributed in some way, or made a mark in the eastern states of India that come under the Consulate-General of Italy in Kolkata. He read my article and was interested in knowing more about Louis Mandelli. This led to an event held in Kurseong on 3 November 2021, to honour the 19th century tea planter’s contribution to the region. The event was organized by the Italian Consulate-General in partnership with the Kolkata-based NGO, FREED (Force for Rural Empowerment and Economic Development).

Mr Adya and Mr Pyne of FREED, Sarita Dasgupta, Dr Rubagotti, Dr Spadoni

 I was invited to be part of the panel comprising Dr Rubagotti, Dr Massimo Spadoni (Scientific Officer at the Italian Embassy in New Delhi, and avid bird-watcher) and myself, and asked to acquaint the local populace with Mandelli’s life as a tea planter and naturalist, which I did through a visual presentation. I also played them an audio-visual message from Jason Mendelli.

The next day, we drove to Darjeeling and paid our respects at Louis Mandelli’s grave at the Catholic Singtom Cemetery.

Louis Mandelli’s grave at the Catholic Singtom Cemetery

It is true that one can never foresee the consequences of one’s actions. I can only be glad that my ‘action’ of writing Louis Mandelli’s story led to my acquaintance with Jason Mandelli and Dr Rubagotti, and to a renewed interest in, and recognition of, Louis Mandelli’s contribution to the tea industry and the natural history of the region in which he chose to spend his life.

Meet the writer: Sarita Dasgupta

Sarita enjoying a warm cup of Kawakawa tea in New Zealand.  

Read about it here

"As a ‘chai ka baby’ (and grandbaby!) and then a ‘chai ka memsahab’, I sometimes wonder if I have tea running through my veins! 

I have been writing for as long as can remember – not only my reminiscences about life in ‘tea’ but also skits, plays, and short stories. My plays and musicals have been performed by school children in Guwahati, Kolkata and Pune, and my first collection of short stories for children, called Feathered Friends, was published by Amazing Reads (India Book Distributors) in 2016. My Rainbow Reader series of English text books and work books have been selected as the prescribed text for Classes I to IV by the Meghalaya Board of School Education for the 2018-2019 academic session, and I have now started writing another series for the same publisher.

More stories by Sarita here : https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/search/label/Sarita%20Dasgupta

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 in 2018 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! 

This is the link to all the stories on this blog: https://teastorytellers.blogspot.com/ 
Be sure to add it to your list of favourites! Happy reading!! Cheers to the spirit of Indian tea!