Chai Kada Story

Was just reading Ruskin bond's ‘ A wayside tea shop ‘  tucked into his many, many stories of on the road, which got me thinking,  err reminiscing my own chai stall encounter. Well if you have lived for any period of time, in the Indian subcontinent you already know that chai stalls are neither rare nor a novelty. They are there almost anywhere you go in India. In the south we call it chai kada. And hence I have had, may be a million chais, so why did I think of this particular story ? Well because it’s the right opposite to Bond's not in essence but in weather conditions. Ruskin Bond’s story tells us about him discovering a tea stall in a very dry area in the Gharwal region, where the stall sits under the only tree in 5 miles.

I started reminiscing my chai encounter wondering at the disparity. This is a while back, 4 years to be precise I had quit my job in an online art gallery,   and let us just say I wanted to celebrate this… well freedom. It was the month of June, I had a terrible memory of Delhi heat in the previous June, fresh in my memory and all I wanted was a rainy green trip. Unlike the blistering heat of North India in June, the skies in the South shower down in gallons. June is a particularly wonderful month,  the sky becomes a particularly spectacular blue,  there are no heavy grey clouds,  but light happy white swirls like in a Miyazaki movie. So the plan was to do Kerala,  mainly Munnar and Alappuzha. 

Both these places, I feared were not only over hyped,  but crowded and probably not what I would appreciate. Well this was far from the truth, as far as such a thing could be. On this quite a splendid trip, me and my friend took an auto rickshaw on hire for the whole day. Our auto guy's name was kumar, he was a Tamilian and originally from Ooty. He liked his job very much, and smiled a lot, he  was neither private about his life,  nor did he see any point in such things. He showed us where he lived and told a long story of how he came to live there. As we reached top station 

As we reached top station, a large expanse of rich green tea estates, he dutifully turned into a guide, explaining something here and something there. Of many things I learnt from him,  I learnt that a particular flower I used to keep in a mug in my previous office,  a flower that grows all over HSR layout in Bangalore,  a flower that I loved, that looked quite the pretty wild thing, was actually a poisonous flower,  or that is what he believed. Well I don't want to question his knowledge.

This was while we were heading there

 Let's just say I never dipped that flower into a mug again. As soon as our little tour of the tea estate drew to a close and as soon as the sun set with a sudden urgency behind a growth of very thick grey clouds. At that very moment we saw the chai stall, a small strip of asbestos covering the top of the stall which was built with wooden planks. We went there, if the exertion did not demand it, the weather definitely did. The chill air, bellowing wind and a thin pitter patter of drizzle. Perfect for drinking tea, and a smoker always lights one up. The tea was made from the same leaves that grew in top station, they were flavored with cinnamon, ginger and such. We took our picks and as we held that old soda glass - glasses brimming with very hot,  not so strong,  but strongly flavored creamish brown tea,  the heavens thundered and such a down pour I had never seen till then,  and I haven't seen one since. It can't be just called rain.

It was an all devouring, it’s not the same as a hurricane, nothing as dramatic, but just excessive, like hundreds of buckets being tipped over from above at the same time. We took shelter under the thundering asbestos of the chai stall. The sight in front of us,  the dim light of the post sunset light, the rain,  the sound of the rain,  the smell of the chai,  all my senses awakened and at awe. A sight that I am not about to forget anytime soon.

It did not end there, we were terrified of the rain, and well we obviously wanted to head back to the warm and dry room. We did not know when the rain would let up, but Kumar seemed to think it a joke he asked us to hop aboard, we were wondering, even if he had a lion’s heart he obviously did not possess magic sight, there was zero visibility, I mean zero. The only thing we could see was the light of a far off vehicle twisting and turning up the winding hill roads. But Kumar drove as if it were a bright sunny day and got us down safe and sound, also as a treat stopped at a wonderful homemade chocolate store. Which bade well for our nerves and our stomachs.

Parinitha Konanur