Colonialism may have fiddled with many aspects of the inherent culture of India, but the one thing Indians probably will not complain about is the British changing their forest cover for the cultivation of tea. That might have its own cons, but my undying love for tea somehow makes me biased.
Every morning, I wake up, and go into a spiral of philosophical thoughts. I cannot garner the strength one requires to stay motivated to survive the monotony of life. Until of course, I have had my morning cup of tea.
Tea is not simply a beverage. Tea, for me, is the magical potion, which is necessary, because adulting is hard. The aroma which is created, while preparing tea actually brings a smile on my face everyday. The first sip transforms me from being a gloomy misanthropist to an encouraged kid, ready to face the world. Honestly, it is embarrassing because the motivation remains as long as the effect of caffeine remains. Drinking tea is a ritual for me.
There are so many memories associated with the act of drinking tea. When I was a kid, I used to see my mother waking up ten minutes early, to prepare tea for my father and herself. And they sat there, in silence, sipping their tea. And I could feel the satisfaction and the energy they derived from drinking tea. The first time I drank tea, I didn’t understand it. I didn’t understand what is so magical in this sweet beverage, that people turn to it in their most tired moments. And before I knew it, I was the one turning to it, when I felt fatigued. And voila, the world became a better place to live in.
[…] up in India, tea was a must as a daily morning beverage without too much focus on its health benefits. Tea was […]