Tea is an elixir. Tea is a poison. It kick starts the day. It rejuvenates the mid-morning. It pulls the evening up as it sags around the ankles. It blackens teeth. It pumps toxins into the system. It gives one a periodic does of acidity.
It isn't like coffee, an obnoxious alarm in your face. It's discreet, gently easing itself around you, subtle yet persuasive.
It brings the family together over an evening slice of cake. It provides the vendor on the footpath his bread and butter the year round. It's the perfect excuse to stand on the curb and enjoy the fog on a thick, January morning.
Black, with ghee-shot laddoos. Milky-sweet with samosas. Green for a kick. Masala-laden for an itchy throat.
It comforts you. It warms you. It floods you with memories. It fills an awkward pause. It gives you something in common with someone. It's a simple joy that makes a difference.
It isn't like coffee, an obnoxious alarm in your face. It's discreet, gently easing itself around you, subtle yet persuasive.
It brings the family together over an evening slice of cake. It provides the vendor on the footpath his bread and butter the year round. It's the perfect excuse to stand on the curb and enjoy the fog on a thick, January morning.
Black, with ghee-shot laddoos. Milky-sweet with samosas. Green for a kick. Masala-laden for an itchy throat.
It comforts you. It warms you. It floods you with memories. It fills an awkward pause. It gives you something in common with someone. It's a simple joy that makes a difference.
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