Everyday at office, the kitchen incharge would serve us tea. Invariably hot and steaming cup of truely desi 'chai' in the morning. Irrespective of the weather, heat or mood. As regular as clockwork, as per the schedule mentioned in the appointment letter, you shall receive tea everyday, twice. To begin with two facts, yes we have a 'kitchen' in the office and each of our appointment letter clearly states that tea shall be served twice in a day. I guess they stress on it for the reason that other offices have smart looking impersonal cafeterias where you have to 'buy' stuff. We are served.
Every day in the morning after beating the nine o'clock traffic rush in the rising temperature in the city, when we reach office, the shirts are sticking to the back already dripping with sweat. After the computers are turned on and gmail checked, people get ready to do some real 'work'. There are two tea serving sessions, one at ten, the other at eleven. At ten, when the senior editors come to the office, tea is immediatly served to them. The following round is for the 'rest of the people'. So we fall in the eleven o'clock bracket of 'chai'-serving. 'Chai' actually describes the brown liquid served better. 'Tea' however gives it more of an elegant high tea jingle, which no way does justice.
The 'chai' is actually milk boiled with water and tonns of sugar in it, hastily thrown in tea leaves to give it the brown liquor colour. It is lovingly served in thick glass mugs with orange rims. The orange rims in some cups are chipped off giving it a cracked antique look. It depends on ones' luck, which day he/she gets what cup, completely cracked, half cracked or just barely cracked. The completely cracked ones have to be maneuvered carefully in order to sip from the non-chipped portions to avoid lip-cuts. The half cracked cups are the majority, with a single crack running neatly, telling you clearly to handle it with care, and if you are extremely lucky you shall find the barely there cracks at the bottom only after you drain the tea completely.
The lady who serves the tea is proud of her tea-making skill. If anyone refuses to be served she would take it as a personal offense. She takes it for granted that everyone in the office would need tea before they start their work, even if it is a 46 degree celsius outside. On 'ethical' grounds our office doesnot use an AC. The building is made of bricks without cement plastering it with little gaps in the walls for air flow. There are bamboo chiks on the windows and ancient coolers trying to keep the place cool. The gaps pass warm, dusty air, the chiks are dusty and a hundred years old, falling apart in places, held precariously by worn out threads, so the coolers are the lone warriors to beat the heat. In such a humid, sticky summer when boiling, steaming hot 'chai' is served as a routine, it adds to the heat rather than beat it. If there is any reluctance in accepting the 'chai', the sweet lady is quick to give options. She would insist on black tea with lemon in it. Lately, as the price of lemons have shot up, this option has been withdrawn.
Hot 'chai', hot summer, no AC in the office and the traffic rush in the morning becomes even more unbearable if it is a Saturday. The sweet thought of weekend after five days of work is rudely destroyed with evidences from reality. The heat rising, mercury soaring and work piling, my 'chai' just arrived in a barely cracked orange rim almost antique mug. Atleast I am lucky to have the least cracked mug today.
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