To Tea, with love.

OCD - Obsession of Chai Disorder.
No wait, I don't want to call it a disorder. And I don't know what it is if not a disorder. But whatever it may be, I appreciate that it makes me love my cup of tea more and more everyday. Well so much that I, in fact, just realized that I have this weird hobby (if I can call it that) of tasting chai at every place I travel to. And this Instagram story of mine from a few months ago is proof.

And what this 30ml potion did to me after a 5 hour-long extremely bumpy ride is inexplicable. But I think you can understand only if you fall in the same league of tea obsession as I do. And this is why I say that having tea at every place I travel to is my hobby and also, necessity.
And I know that this does not even explain a quarter of my eternal love for tea. But if I do have to get into more details, maybe I could write a thesis about it. 'Effects of Tea on the Human mind: A research paper constructed from personal experiences' - How's that for a working title?
And here's what the contents of the thesis would look like:
a) Introduction to cutting chai - the red bull substitute for most Indians.
b) Personal experiences with tea - the one brewed at home vs. the one enjoyed best at chai tapri.
c) Personal experiences with tea II - tasting tea across India.
Okay I can't continue without elaborating on point c. There's so much to talk about it. I don't even know where to start. So I think let me use this picture from my Instagram as a trigger.

I was as much excited to visit this tea garden in Sikkim as I was about tasting tea here. And well the garden was definitely a pleasing sight. But the brewed tea - let's just say it didn't live up to the imaginary standards I had about chai from a tea garden. I was disappointed, but my love for tea never ceased. Because the next best experience I had during this trip was of this enthralling cup of tea by the Guwahati - Shillong Highway in a shady restaurant. I don't remember what I ate, but the taste of that amazing beverage lingers even today. But I think, it led me to more disappointment. Because the red tea that I had throughout Meghalaya wasn't much of a delight. But who knew my forthcoming travels were going to be accessorized by those little moments of joy that came from tasting different types and varieties of tea.
I can never forget the warmth that small cup of hot Kahwa gave me while I sipped it amidst a snow-covered Khardung-La in Ladakh. Or that addictive taste of butter tea which I gulped down cup after cup, for a 100 times in a day, with lunch, dinner and what not, again in Ladakh. Or the sachharine tea in Nagpur which I hated. or the joy that sipping butter tea again in Goa at a Tibetan restaurant gave me. Or those countless times I revisited my college and never left without having a cutting chai which tasted the same throughout all these years. Or the chai that refreshes me during my work hours. Or my most important morning ritual - adrak vaali chai.
And now, if you've reached until here, then congratulations! Because 1 - You've read my thesis about tea. And 2 - because there is a possibility that you belong to the same tribe of chai-loving humans as I do.
La Fin.
End challenge: Count the number of times the word 'tea' or 'chai' appears in this post. 

Desert Valley - Part 2

Is it possible to be reminded of something that you've never really forgotten? Well, of course it's something that's at the back of your mind. But suddenly it takes the centre stage and the memories come gushing to you. It's like you're living in the past. Something like time-traveling. Time-traveling back to a trip where you were in your happy place and, even today, in this chaos of the city, you seek for the same happiness, and you're hit by the thought that you will not find it here.
My blog about Ladakh (the first part) resurfaced as a Facebook memory from about 2 years ago. And it teleported me back to those sunny, wintery days in the desert valley. How I missed hitting those dusty, rugged roads of Ladakh that took me to the pieces of paradise on earth! Traveling across the region with locals that were now familiar, whom we lived with as a family for almost a week in Ladakh, well that was what I call a truly exhilarating experience!
It was as though every time the road took a turn, it had something different to offer. So many roads were jeweled with rivers flowing by the side, sparkling under the sun and occasionally passing under a small bridge decorated with colourful prayer flags that fluttered because of the cold wind. From the window, distant barren mountains were seen covered with snow at the top. At times we passed grasslands where we spotted some animals - families of deers and marmots peacefully grazing and basking in the warmth of the sun. 

Traveling across the region meant crossing deep valleys through ghats with hairpin bends, you almost felt like you could feel sick and puke at any moment but halting at intervals for some butter tea was always the solution.  I still remember reaching Khardung-La and sipping on some hot Kahwa amidst the snow-covered road. All in white and grey and only prayer flags adding colour to the scenery. What a pleasant sight it was! Despite the mountain sickness you feel at such a height, you don't complain. Because you know that you're experiencing something so pure, something that you will never be blessed with back in your city. So you just sit there ignoring the head ache and continue sipping your Kahwa while you stare blankly at the incredible view and just be. Nothing more. Nothing less. You just be.

And that's what the mountains do to you. They hypnotise you to the extent that you know you have to go back to them. You don't know for what. You just have to. It's like making an unsaid promise to the mountains. I will be back to see you. And yet again, you can enthrall me with your beauty, charm and majesty. And I will never stop loving you, my dear mountains.