Growing up, I never really had the habit of drinking anything. Although during exam days, friends and family would recommend tea and coffee to stay up, they never did have the desired effect on me. Years passed and I got married to the man of my dreams. But ours was a divided household — I was creative, a Mac lover and a morning person, he was pragmatic, a PC user, a coffee drinker and definitely not a morning person! I guess opposites attract?
Then a life changing event occurred. We were living in New York and my in-laws came to stay with us. My mother-in law had an elaborate tea ritual everyday at 4pm—come rain or shine. It included the right brand of tea powder, the right kind of milk, and the right amount of sugar. If that was not enough, the process was exacting as well—water had to be carefully measured, allowed to boil for the right amount of time, to which was added the exact amount of tea powder, steeped for the exact amount of time, adding the right amount of milk, and to be drunk without wasting time lest it gets cold! What’s more, it had to be accompanied by snacks and required that we also relax and enjoy it.
I, to be honest, was confounded! I never really understood the fuss. And then, it popped in our conversations:
‘Amma, I have a headache,’ I’d say – Drink tea, you will feel better.
‘Amma, I am tired.’ – Drink tea, you will feel better.
‘Amma, I have a fever.’ – Drink tea, you will feel better.
‘Amma, I am annoyed at my boss.’ – Drink tea, you will feel better.
Yes, the answer to every problem, minor or major, in my life was to drink tea. I am not one to ever hesitate to speak my mind but our relationship was still new. My mother-in-law was the quiet sort, but also the sort you didn’t mess with. So I drank the tea she made although it made no difference to my troubles. And no, I was not allowed to make the tea.
In the course of the next few weeks, tea became our 4 pm ritual. We got to know each other over it. We forged a deep bond over our tea cups. Endless conversations, sharing of dreams, hopes and secrets. It was our time alone with the men not yet back from work. We were now more comfortable with each other and one day she asked me to pour the milk in the tea—score! I had officially won her over!
Shortly after, my in-laws moved out of New York and I was by myself again. I missed my ma-in-law a lot especially at 4pm. Although by now, tea had become a habit, I was more of a social drinker—I needed company to enjoy it. I would mainly drink tea when I met my mother-in-law or if we had visitors or if I was visiting family in India.
[bctt tweet=”Yes, the answer to every problem, minor or major, in my life was to drink tea”]
Its been 15 years since I’ve been married, and tea perhaps, has remained the one thing that me and my mother-in-law still bond strongly over. We can have disagreements about everything else but never about the tea or the process of making it. After all, I am the novice who learned from the Master. At one point all teas—watery, milky, strong, light—meant the same to me. For the life of me I could not tell the difference. Now I am a whole new animal—I would rather not drink a cup of tea than drink a badly made one.
Recently, we went on a family trip to Kerala. We stayed at many different places—some boutique hotels and some home stays. But no matter where we were, across the state the tea was hopelessly bad! Too milky in some places, too watery at others, and downright insipid at some others. Everybody else managed to get by—they either drank the tea grudgingly or switched to coffee. The two people who suffered immensely were me and Amma.
We suffered for a week. And believe me when I tell you we suffered, and especially so when the smaller hotels didn’t provide a kettle and tea bags (our absolute last resort). One morning, we were having breakfast—piping hot appams and stew—at this home stay. Presently, our host brought out the tea, milky and not acceptable to Amma or me. At this point, I really couldn’t hold myself any longer. Standing up, I walked up to the kitchen and asked the lady of the house if I could just make my own tea. It was not a request she obviously receives often but she didn’t refuse me.
I came out with two steaming cups of tea and sat at the table, placing one in front of Amma. She was happy, as happy as I remember her looking at the birth of my first-born. But what totally made my day was that the Master had finally accepted the tea made by her intern of 15 years! She told me she was so glad I was bold enough to do what I did. I don’t think she would have been this proud even if I had single-handedly saved them all from knife wielding kidnappers.
This was the first time Amma was drinking tea that I had made all by myself. She seemed happy enough with it. We returned from our vacation and almost as if we had never stopped, our 4pm tea times resumed. And occasionally, Amma would sit back and let me make the tea. I had finally moved up in the ranks.
I am now officially the Expert. Not Master yet, but definitely not Novice anymore.
Illustration by Bakula Nayak.
Bakula’s solo show ‘Make love, make art, make tea’ was held at the Kynkyny Art gallery, Bangalore in Dec 2015.
