Tea, as simple as it seems as a beverage, holds a far more complex and emotional connection for many of us. For me, it's more than just a drink. It's a thread woven through childhood memories, school routines, friendships, and travels.
The Parle-G Ritual
My weird obsession with tea began in childhood. We were three siblings, and our mornings always started with tea and a packet of Parle-G biscuits. I couldn't have tea without them — it just didn't feel right.
But Parle-G wasn't always available at home. So the moment my mom began making tea, I'd dash to the nearby provision store to fetch a packet. We drank tea in steel tumblers, and I always grabbed the biggest one. They all held the same amount of tea, but holding the bigger tumbler just made me feel good.
Tea Time at Sainik School
Later, I joined a Sainik school — an all-boys residential school meant to prepare students for the National Defence Academy. And, as we all know, the Indian defence forces have a special love for tea.
My school helped nurture that obsession. We had tea at least twice a day: once at 5:30 AM before our physical training, and again at 4:30 PM before evening games. The mess workers would bring tea in large kettles and either whistle or shout to let us know. That's how "tea came" became a phrase. Sounds funny, I know, but that's what we used to say. If someone asked, "tea came?", you knew what they meant.
We'd rush to the common area with our tumblers and queue up in front of the kettle. Seniors didn't queue — they had the privilege of getting tea brought to them, usually by juniors. The silver lining for those juniors? They could get their own tea too, no need to stand in line. A small win-win in the hierarchy of hostel life.
Tea was often accompanied by snacks — sometimes puffs, samosas, or buns, but mostly in-house made biscuits. Not Parle-G, though. These were thick, cookie-like biscuits we jokingly called "dog biscuits," as many ended up being fed to stray dogs.
The bun was a hot commodity. Seniors got most of them, so as a junior, I rarely got any. That's how my love for the tea-bun combo began — gradually replacing my tea-Parle-G habit. When I became a senior, I made up for every lost bun from my junior days.
On educational trips, mostly to defence cantonments, the only snack that reliably accompanied tea was pakoras. They were so oily we used to joke they were fried in diesel. But paired with tea, they hit the spot.
Mysuru Mornings and Tea Walks
After school, I moved to Mysuru for my undergrad. My love for tea didn't fade. Luckily, my close friends shared that same love.
The tea-bun combo was now a thing of the past. I started enjoying tea by itself, savoring its warmth and simplicity. We often set out on long walks to find the best roadside tea stalls, sometimes covering kilometres just for one cup. Eventually, we found our favourites and became regulars.
These small, unassuming stalls served the best tea — far better than any gourmet café. Over time, we built a bond with the stall owners. Even now, when I visit Mysuru, I make it a point to visit those same stalls. The owners still recognise me, and we catch up over a steaming cup. That's the magic of tea — it connects people.
So, What's Your Tea Story?
That's the story of my love for tea — a journey that started with Parle-G biscuits and grew with every sip through school, travels, and friendships.
What's your tea story? I'd love to hear how a simple cup of tea made a mark on your life.