My Cup of TEA!!

Sitting on the window sill, I wondered about the many evenings that I had spent just looking at the sky. Sometimes, there would be clouds. At other times, the clear sky would be coloured golden pink and orange, not sure of the colour it wanted to retain. I had seen the dark of the night win over the different colours that the Sun so happily left behind. But the dark was not always dark. That was the beauty of it. All colours lost in it and yet, it was still beautiful. Stars, and sometimes the various moods of the moon. And every time my reverie would be broken as soon as I brought my eyes back to my horizons. The candescent man made light illuminating the reality. Reluctantly, I tried not to be jolted back into the present. The memories still lingered around my mind as the expensive perfume which lingers even after the day is gone through. You try a lot to smell the fragrance and feel as fresh as you felt when you applied it, but you can’t. Lowering myself slowly into the awareness of my surrounding and getting my grip back on myself, I made tea for my family. Peculiar way they have tea, like the British. I loved the stronger brew that I used to have at the roadside tapriwalah near my office. His vessel had a layer of all the past tea that he had ever brewed. Each time, he made the concoction; a mark would be left on his vessel. No amount of scrubbing took off the mark, though sometimes, it did lighten a bit. It was like the experiences we all went through. Every event leaves an indelible mark on us. Time may lighten it but it cannot erase it. But the tea used to be awesome. Just the right amount of sugar, the strong pungent flavor of ginger and boiled and boiled! This tea was a sham for a mug of milk. I often told my parents to just have the milk, why make me go through all the process of making the tea brew? But then that is how it is. You begin making something else and end up with something else. You start your life, strategically planning out all your dreams and aspirations. You try to make the perfect decisions. You think you take the perfect decisions. And when you sit back and take a sip, it tastes different.
Sitting with my cuppa, made to my likeness, I felt free. No one could make me change the way I loved my tea. Perhaps all the nutrients and good stuff was destroyed, but who cared for it any way. As long as my cup of tea was the way I liked and made me feel refreshed, I really did not care for the nutrients. Why did I take all those nutrient supplements for anyways? My life, my tea.