Just a Cup of Tea

It is just a cup of tea. It would remain just a cup of tea, if we didn’t ask any questions or ponder the expressions of those sipping from the cup.  In a world where only the practical matter, it would be, Just a cup of Tea. But it wasn’t so in Ria’s world.  In Ria’s world, a cup of tea had its own personality. It became a different character, depending on the type of tea, the people involved in making and drinking the tea. It created an ambience of its own. It had its own vocabulary, diction and dictionary, albeit without words. It had meanings which, outside world hadn’t yet grasped and probably never will.

As a child, tea meant the arrival of a guest. Usually an honored guest she hasn’t seen in a while; a guest, valued above her own family. Her family drank coffee, which at the time was the most common beverage of the South.  Preparation of tea in the house meant the guest was of a higher socio-economic stratum than herself.  Tea meant the royals have arrived. Everyone was in their best garb and behavior.  There will be no raised voices, or un-necessary laughter. Just dignified conversation, with formal words, some so formal that Ria never knew their meaning.  There will be the faint hint of perfume, lingering after the guest leaves and a wish that lingers in Ria’s heart that they would visit again so she could watch and imprint the mannerism of the royals. Of course, that was the excuse. The real reason was, to look upon the Handsome Prince in that family of Royals.

Over time, Ria understood that Tea had a versatile personality. As she entered her teens, tea meant an announcement of great importance, like India winning the cricket match or a marriage or birth announcement in the family.  Her first cup of tea, meant she was now an adult. The presence of tea bound her to her classmates at the college cafeteria. It meant being able to talk to Professors and Lecturers in a cloak of maturity.  Tea was the silent witness to meetings, peace makings and deal breakings. Sometimes the silence of the tea acted as the symbol for the silence of un-uttered words between people. Words like “Ah! It feels warm” that seemed too obvious to say on a cold rainy day; or  “I hope you know I care” that is difficult to say to people whose ego comes in the way of humane interactions.

Serving tea was a means to sharing with people. At least until the tea is drunk, they will stay and spend time with you.  Hopefully, share and exchange ideas and parts of themselves.  Hot milky sweet tea early in the morning, iced lemon and ginger tea on hot afternoons, mint tea after dinner, shared with loved ones, neighbours, friends and family, in quiet togetherness.  It was important to feel that human touch for however small a while, however shy you were and tea, was a perfect excuse, an asking and giving of ourselves without making it obvious. 

Her wish for the visiting Royals was answered many times over.  She continued to look upon the Prince hoping he would look upon her the way she did. The Prince maintained Princely dignity.  He was polite, friendly and civil but kept an ambiguous distance.  It was never lost upon her, that he was from a long line of tea drinkers and she was a common coffee drinker.  The distance between tea drinkers and coffee drinkers, was the same as the distance between collective tradition and individual ambition. In communities like the one Ria lived in, what was expected and what she expected were never same. And she knew it well. 

It was 4 pm the last time the Prince drank tea with her.  It was the only time she ever met the Prince alone. Tea eased the awkwardness of that situation.  It was then that Ria knew that the Prince was assigned his Princess.  He spoke to her as he always did, in a friendly voice that did not betray that he knew of the pain that she felt except when he said with a faltering, trailing “If only you were a tea drinker….”.  That was enough for Ria. She needed no elaboration from him.  “Would you like some tea?” She asked.  He looked up at her with eyes that hoped she understood, wished there was another way, wanted time to stop here and softly said “yes”. She made the tea and served it in silence.  In their minds, their wordless thoughts overlapped each other. Their soul hands reach out to hold each other in a hug, the kind that didn’t let go. Their unseen tears mingled with each other, each heard the other sob and they comforted each other with sips of tea in silence. Outside their minds, calm reigned, all was in order, none wiser, conventions were in their place, protocols were followed and decorum maintained. 

For the last two decades since that day, without fail, how ever busy the day was, at 4 pm every evening, the Prince drank tea alone in his study. It was protocol to let him be alone. With each sip of tea, he remembered Ria’s smile, her eyes and imagined conversations with her.   While Ria served tea to her now husband at around the same time…wondering if the Prince still drank tea, and if he did, did it remind the Prince of her the way it reminds her of him? After all these years, one can't tell she isn’t royalty, for she drank tea, walked with an aura of dignity, spoke softly with formal words and never laughed unnecessarily, yet there was a feeling of something missing - The Prince by her side.

The Prince and Ria sip on the tea, enjoying their moment together, each day, unbeknownst to others around them.  They were never apart.

          

Never say goodbye.

Its been two decades since they broke off from each other. They managed to stay out of each other's radar though they lived in the same city. They were to each other, their first love, their first holding of hands, their first kiss and first acknowlegement of  soul-mate.   Yet, on this day, destiny bowled a googly.  They bumped into each other at a street corner food stall. This stall wasnt anywhere close to where either lived. Yet they ended up here at this stall, on that day, at the same time, without a prior appointment, without ever calling each other, without ever really thinking of the other, without any expectation of this ever happening. The world suddenly is quiet within Her and within Him.  All they hear is the heartbeat of the other standing across them.  All they see is the reflection of themselves in the others eye, as they were when they had first met, all those years ago, in their youth, when the word, Impossible, did not exist within their existence, when Forever was not unachievable, when Love was their only nourishment.  In those few seconds, each met the other in a world invisible to others around them.  Neither said a word, as they quietly ordered their food. They eat in silence and walked together to the Taxi stand.  Each very aware of the other's breath, walking through pictures of each other memories, like a movie through time. Each enveloped with a the chill of Regret and the warmth of Love that never went away all these years.  Each with the "if only's and what if's"  sparring many rounds in their minds.

He puts out his hand for the taxi, which stops for him. Opens the door, as she climbs in.  Without a voice, a sentence starts within his mind "If this leaving was only...." finishes in her mind "to come back to you again."  He hails another taxi and gets in.  On the sidewalk where the taxi stopped for the two them...a Lingering Mist Stayed where each left their invisible self to never say goodbye.