The Charm of Chai pe Charcha
Filter coffee — I remember savoring it for the first time at my neighbor’s house. To self-validate my adulting, I try to recollect the skills I’ve learned over the years, especially the ones that are not asked of me or passed on to me by my parents. Making filter coffee, the way I like it, was one such skill I’m proud of learning.
I love coffee, yet I don’t want to get addicted to it. So, some days I take a break. I decided not to carry my filter coffee cravings on my recent trip to Delhi to visit the India Art Fair with my fellow artists of the Flipflop Art Society. Though my friends love my coffee, I left back my coffee filter and coffee powder — a mixture of ground coffee beans and 15% chicory.
We’re a group of four artists and art enthusiasts keen on visiting galleries and broadening our perspective of art. In the contemporary world of art, where price and possessions decide the value of art, we appreciate the joy of creating, viewing, understanding, and growing. We stayed at a friend’s homestay. The perks of staying together on an art trip is that our unusual non-arty topics too crept into our discussions. Drinks became the facilitators of all these intense, personal, and emotional discussions. It is no surprise that some of our artworks were about tea and the conversations it accompanies.
In the bylanes of Indian towns and cities, men standing in groups and talking while sipping hot tea is a common sight. There was never any billboard claiming that these addas were reserved for men. Yet the way the men stood, sipping chai, some of them smoking, peering at passersby, gives women a message that they should not venture into these public yet private dens. Though the situation has changed in a few parts of cities, women buying chai from roadside outlets without the company of a man is still very rare.
Though not much has changed with time in certain ways, there has been a stark change in aspects of life entwined with technology. The roadside tea stalls and Irani cafés are now attracting people but not many conversations. We find everyone immersed in their digital wonderlands through rabbit-holing cell phones even while drinking chai. It matters less now where one can have their Chai. Some give up tea-stall-chai for a comfortable sip from a beautiful cup in the comfort of their sofa and smart television.
Compared with tea stalls, coffee shops attract a separate customer segment, and their ambience too is different. Generally, they are more about a comfortable sip. They don’t attract people from diverse sections. Unlike in Japan, tea drinking in India is not a ritual to slowdown. Traditionally, the working class drank tea. Tea drinkers engaged in heated discussions were found in Irani cafes and tea stalls, whereas coffee shops attracted Indian elite who discuss music or politics. These divisions are not completely correct anymore. However, segregations sadly exist. The divisions may be physical like walls and spaces, and non-physical like the decisions to establish a coffeeshop in a certain locality or the price of their coffee or tea.
Old coffee shops still exist, though they’re not thriving like they used to. Some still go there to grab a light meal or snack or a coffee. The newer cafés with artistic interiors invite the middle class and the rich to sit, socialize, or work. Ironically, in these cafés with big coffee machines that look like installation art, the place is what attracts people, coffee and tea take a back seat. Unlike coffee, tea doesn’t need any fancy equipment; the maker is the hero, like the man brewing meter-chai in tea stalls of South India in copper boilers, swirling chai in the air with his deft hands. These laborious and risky procedures can’t be followed at home.
Having the first-morning chai at home while talking to friends is a rare privilege. While we’re enjoying our leisure, our friends may not be around. And when our friends are around, it may not be our teatime. Moreover, homely chai has a flavor that is easy to achieve and not impossible like the teashop one. Our recipes are customized to the subjective tastes of our family members and hence distinct. This melodious symphony of taste, warmth, and company took away our jealousy of men enjoying conversations in roadside tea stalls or modern coffee shops. Each of us carried with us several recipes of chai and we were never aware of this accumulated practical knowledge. Delhi was cold and we needed tea to warm us up in the mornings. All of us had stories to share about the various processes of making tea and the stage of life we were in when we learned the skill.
I got used to my mother’s ginger tea when I was in college. I had to go to GRE coaching classes early in the morning. After recovering from a bout of sinus infections my mother began to develop a strong belief that her tea is what will keep me safe and healthy. I used to have her hot tea before cycling for my classes.
When I shared my story of tea, my friends shared theirs. One of them shared how she would warm the mug for her mother by rinsing it in hot water before pouring her mom’s perfect tea into it. I could imagine the great pride and comfort her mother must’ve enjoyed as she held the warm mug, especially during the cold winters of north India. For those who have not experienced cold winters or the shock of tasting tea that has gone colder too fast, this might seem like an unnecessary and orthodox procedure. But believe me, that warm hug is what we need many times.
Another co-traveler shared her recipe for making tea with a mild brew. The recipe seemed simple but took longer, though the effort was little. The brew made by adding tea leaves to boiling water, sits on a turned-off burner and cools down as we get through the other tasks. It then awakens when warmed up with just a dash of milk.
For extra flavor and heat, on one of the mornings, we had a simple tea with spices. We boiled water with spices like cinnamon, cloves, and pepper, added the tea leaves, and with some milk (quantity is as per your taste) the masala tea was ready.
We also made a lazy chai. We added some water, milk, and tea powder and let it simmer on the lowest flame possible for about 10 minutes before filtering it and serving it in cups. Beware of boiling it too long or adding too much tea powder. That would make your tea bitter. Our teas are not about bitterness but about warmth.
Well, my rant is not all about tea. One among us is not much into tea or coffee. Her stand was so indifferent to the procedures that she couldn’t identify if the hot beverage she just had was tea or coffee. That’s okay too. Despite the indifference, our friend, the busiest among us, took part in all chitchats with equal enthusiasm. It was not after all, totally about ‘Tea’.
