Nothing can be healthier and more stimulating than a steaming cup of hot tea, discovers the writer

Tea is much like poetry. And, I think, among all poetic forms, it is the humble 17-syllabled haiku, a type of short form poetry that originated from Japan, which comes closest to capturing the essence of a cup of tea. Both tea and haiku are simple in form, yet complex in content, and impart unto us a hint of immortality.

Who would have thought that one simple act of letting a handful of leaves steep in water could pave the way not just for endless hours of quiet contemplation and meditation, but also for explorative voyages, and revolutions? Different teas, according to the colour, aroma, oxidation, and taste, give rise to a multitude of  moods. They take us places within us we did not know existed. “Each cup of tea represents an imaginary voyage”, is a famous quote.

Having a perfect cup of tea is pure happiness. It satisfies all the senses: visual, taste, olfactory, even auditory. Is it a wonder then that since the beginning of civilisation, tea, much like spices, has been instrumental in bringing people together? Friendships have been formed over a cup of tea, people fall in love over a cup of tea…secrets are shared through a cup of tea; even fortunes are revealed by reading the dregs at the bottom of a cup of tea.

Seema Muniz

I have been much inspired to write a few of my own tea haikus in the process of sipping many a satisfying cup of tea.

1. Smudged skies, blotted views,

     my hands wrapped around a cup

     of tea: ah, perfect!

2. Give me a cup of tea,

     a birdsong, a shard of sky

      to call my own.

3. The sky dances, the

    river sings, the kettle on 

    the stove hums along.

4. Drowning in a cup of tea,

    a thousand memories:

   I fish them out.

5. At the lotus feet of Buddha

    I sit and enjoy

    a cup of tea.

7. A kettle whistles,

    scattering the huddled silence

    of the morning.

8. With such zeal she brews

   a cup of tea,

  so much love in her eyes

  when she serves.

9. Each cup of tea

    refreshes the memory

    of an absent moment.

10.  A cricket singing,

       one last sip of tea,

      then, I shall watch the sunset.

I recalled a time just before the lockdown was announced when a young Swede couple, Alice and Larsk pitched their tent for a couple of weeks in my Mom’s guest house, next-door to where I live. I think of them now as tea-connoisseurs, train buffs, travelers and truth seekers. Larsk, a yoga instructor and Alice, a budding artist had decided to take off on a journey of self-discovery across the world and travelled all the way from Sweden to India, mostly by train on land, including the Trans-Siberian Express! While walking around with their backpacks, it was the ‘Orange Peel Tea Gallery’ sign, which drew them in. Being tea experts, they needed to taste and learn about ours. 

“So, which tea do you have: green, white, red, yellow, black, oolong, or jasmine?” they asked.

“Sorry, we only serve floral and fruit teas here, with a dash of green, or Darjeeling. And, right now, we can offer you hibiscus orange, and blue cowpea with rosemary”. The apologetic tone of my answer was clearly audible.

‘Adventure’ being the duo’s middle name, they were ready to explore our options. 

After having had, what I thought and hoped a satisfactory experience of our little gallery, they decided to move into the serene premises of the guest house for the duration of their stay, promising to give us a taste of their own collection of teas in the near future. 

And lo, one  morning, there we were, five of us, at a table under the keet roof, each one fronted by a small off-white cup atop a blue cotton coaster. The February air was cool, and quiet, with an occasional volley of questions, being aimed in our direction, from an inquisitive couple. Assisted by Larsk, a 750-ml bottle of hot water, and a little pouch of white tea teamed up to give us an experience we shall all remember for a long time to come. Larsk had decided that white tea would be a good introduction for the uninitiated. Unprocessed, and unblemished by time, white tea with its yellow tinge, is known for its cleansing properties. And, it is said that if it is taken with ‘intentions’, it could also help gain a clarity of the ‘self’.

The tiny kettle from where the tea was being poured, was getting refilled from the hot water bottle, which, in turn, flowed into our cups. We sat in silence, slurping our tea, a tad noisily, to gauge its auric depth; talking only if impelled to. 

Our tea session must have lasted more than an hour, by the end of which the five of us had managed to absorb the whole 750 ml of tea, which, if divided into five would equate to almost two-thirds of a cup per head. And yet, when we finally decided to take our leave, we felt not only aesthetically and spiritually fulfilled, but also gastronomically satisfied. 

I thought back to that day earlier this year — amidst all the madness of our daily life, and the growing threat of the coronavirus and the political and communal upheaval the country was going through, amidst the uncertainty surrounding the Olympics in Japan, here we were, finding our own Nirvana in a cup of tea.

Seema Muniz, a feature writer with the Times of India group in the nineties, is an avid reader and educationist, who homeschooled her son until tenth grade, while drifting between New York and Alaska with her family. She is also an artist, with a few solo and group shows in Albany, NY, to her credit. 

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