There’s a kind of magic that unfolds when the day ends, and the evening slips quietly into place. The world, exhausted from its relentless pace, seems to exhale, and so do I. In that in-between moment, as the sky blushes with the last traces of sunlight, I find myself drawn to one ritual that has stayed constant through the years—a steaming, karak cup of chai at a roadside stall.
It’s not as though I can’t make chai in the comfort of my room. I’ve done it countless times, the same ingredients, the same process. But the chai brewed at a roadside stall holds something else entirely. It carries the weight of the day’s stories, the chatter of strangers, the earthy aroma of the open air. It feels alive in a way my own quiet cup never could.
This ritual began during my college days, a habit born from the need to escape. No matter how packed the day, how overwhelming the deadlines, or how exhausting the lectures, by evening, I would find myself at the tea stall. The clinking of steel tumblers, the rhythmic bubbling of the kettle, and the comforting presence of people who, like me, sought solace in a cup of chai,these moments felt sacred.
Even now, with life having changed so much, the pull of that karak chai hasn’t wavered. There’s something grounding about standing there, amidst the hum of the city, letting the warmth of the cup seep into my hands. It’s not just the tea,it’s the pause it demands. A moment where I let the day slip away, its triumphs and trials dissolving with each sip
Roadside tea stalls have a charm that no café can replicate. They’re raw, unpolished, yet brimming with life. The chaiwala works with practiced ease, pouring out not just tea but a piece of his world into every cup. The air is alive with fragments of conversations—laughter, complaints, musings. In those brief moments, you’re no longer just an individual; you’re part of a larger story, a quiet harmony of strangers coming together over something as simple as tea.
There’s a certain beauty in this ritual, an unspoken lesson in the art of slowing down. The world may demand speed, perfection, and results, but a roadside cup of chai reminds me that life’s true essence often lies in its pauses. It’s in the act of standing still, watching the steam curl and rise, letting the first sip wrap you in its warmth, and feeling the day loosen its grip on your shoulders.
These evenings, chai in hand, are more than just a habit—they’re my sanctuary. They remind me that no matter how chaotic life gets, there’s always time for a little stillness, a little joy, a little chai. And as the sun dips below the horizon and the city lights flicker to life, I sip, I breathe, and for a moment, everything feels just right.
Leave a comment