"...Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour"

Train buffs, travelers, truth seekers, and tea-connoisseurs: these four Ts sum up Alice and Larsk, the two young Swedes, who pitched their tent for a couple of weeks in my mom's guest house, next door. Larsk, a yoga instructor and Alice, a budding artist had decided to take off on a journey of self-discovery across the world. Yes, all the way from Sweden to India, they had come by land, and that too, mostly by trains, including Trans-Siberean express!  While walking around with their backpacks, it was the "Orange Peel" tea gallery sign, which drew them in. Being tea experts, they needed to taste and learn about ours. 

"So, which tea do you have: green, white, red, yellow, black, oolong, or jasmine?"

 "Sorry, we only serve floral and fruit teas here, with a dash of green, or Darjeeling.   And, right now, we should be able to offer you hibiscus orange, and blue cowpea with rosemary". The apologetic tone of my answer was clearly audible.

 'Adventure' being the duo's middle name, they were ready to explore our options. 

After having had, what I thought and hoped a satisfactory experience of our little gallery, they decided to move into the serene premises of the guest house for the duration of their stay, promising to give us a taste of their collection of teas in a near future. 

And lo, one  morning, there we were, five of us, at a table under the keet roof, each one fronted by a small off-white cup atop a blue cotton coaster. The February air was cool, and quiet, with an occasional volley of questions, being aimed in our direction, from an inquisitive  brainfever. Assisted by Larsk, a 750 ml bottle of hot water, and a little pouch of white tea teamed up to give us an experience we shall all remember for a long time to come. Larsk had decided that white tea would be a good introduction for the uninitiated. Unprocessed, and unblemished by time, white tea with its yellow tinge, is known for its cleansing property. And, if taken with intentions, it could also help gain a clarity of the 'self'.

The tiny kettle from where the tea was being poured, was getting refilled from  the hot water bottle, which, in turn, flowed into our cups. We sat in silence, slurping our tea, a tad noisily, to gauge its auric depth; talking only if impelled to. 

Our tea session must have lasted more than an hour, by the end of which the five of us had managed to  absorb the whole 750ml of tea, which is just a little more than one and a half pints, which, if divided into five would equate to150ml (almost two thirds of a cup) per head. And yet, when we finally decided to take our leave, we felt not only aesthetically and spiritually fulfilled, but also gastronomically satisfied. 

Midst all the madness of our daily life, midst the growing threat of Coronavirus, midst the political and communal upheaval the country is going through, midst the uncertainty surrounding the Olympics in Japan,  here we were, finding our own Nirvana in a cup of tea.

A Wall to Wall Brotherhood

Flashback, year 1988. Dr Venkatraman, the 8th president of India visits Pondicherry. A week before his visit, the preparations begin. The outer walls of the road-facing buildings from where the convoy is going to pass, are rigorously white-washed to remove any sign of mould or decay. The beggars from the boulevards and the Ganesh temple are hurriedly transferred to some obscure part of the inner city. "Only temporarily," they are assured. The side of the footpaths are painted neatly, and white powder sprinkled along the curbs. And lo, for one brief moment, Pondicherry is restored to its erstwhile glory of the French era. Women in colorful silk sarees,  men in white dhoti, and children with fistful of flower petals line the roads on the scheduled day of the arrival, waiting to welcome the President. 

Fast forward 32 years. Year 2020. India prepares to welcome the American President Donald Trump to Ahmedabad, a sprawling metropolis. It also happens to be the capital of Gujarat whose development model as pursued by Modi, the then chief minister of the state, won him many accolades and pitched him into the national arena, to become the undisputed leader of the country.

 Preparations are in full swing.  President Trump is thrilled to learn that at least 50,000 beautiful smiling people are expected to line up along the 22 kms route of the roadshow. Even people from other states, wearing their traditional attire would participate in the event, a panoramic way to showcase the cultural as well as the hi-tech facets of India, with only one hiccup. The route passes by a sprawling slum, a real embarassment to our image of an emerging superpower nation. But, trust the genius of AMC (Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation) to come up with the most creative solution: Make these destitute people and their whole caboodle invisible! Sounds like magic, but it is really just a matter of building a wall along the 600 meter cluster of stench-ridden, poverty-stricken hovel! A mere 100 crore! A drop in the ocean for a country, which, almost a year ago, completed its successful launch of ASAT Shakti, becoming the fourth nation to accomplish such a feat! And, if America can build a wall, so can we. If Jack can do it, so can Jill. What a partnership, and what camaraderie! Long Live America! Jai Hind.

Reality Show: Not Really...

My friend Cecil, who lives in Omaha, 30 miles from the place where officials in personal protective equipment, are doing dry runs on the interstate, and where the  returning Americans from Wuhan  are quickly being  sent in quarantine, is nervous. And, she has reasons to be. "We feel like props from a Hollywood movie, or  extras from "Walking Dead"," she tells me. Her description of the biocontainment unit for infectious diseases  in Ashland, Nebraska, does sound like a plot from one of those umpteen end-of-the-world/doomsday/apocalyptic movies  we so love.  But, when the familiarity of such movies lends itself to our day-to-day reality, it must feel almost surreal on one hand, and outright frightening, on the other. And yet, real it is.

Yu Yan, the 34-year-old Chinese lady, from the great port city of Guangzhou,  is staying in our family guest house next door for a while now, and keeps us updated by whatever little news she gets through her mom, and sister back home. Initially, she was very optimistic, confident that the 1000-bed hospital in Wuhan, built in a record time of under two weeks (yet another emblem of Chinese efficiency), would suffice to put a break on the spread of the virus. But, with every passing day, the number of cases rising exponentially across China, her hope for such a scenario is fast dwindling, "Quite a few people have been hit by the Corona virus in my city too. Most work places have been shut down. My folks hardly leave the apartment, except for an occasional visit to the supermarket!" She told us. Yes, believe it or not, the supermarkets are still open, and people still shop. Yet, realistically speaking, what are their options? Guangzhou, famous for its multi-cultural cuisine, and dining-out culture,  recently decided to close its innumerable restaurants as a preventive measure, but, somehow did not include supermarkets... 

A few weeks ago, Yu Yan contacted a pharmacist in Delhi, whom she had befriended during her visit to the capital city, and inquired about the possibility of shipping a few hundred masks to her native place. Since he seemed quite enthusiastic to collaborate on such a philanthropic venture, she immediately transferred the requisite amount to his account, certain that he would do the needful. But when the masks didn't  reach their destination, she contacted the friend again, who, in turn, confessed that because of the emergency situation on a global level, the prices of the masks had shot up, and some more dough could expedite the process. Yu Yan obliged. Yet, unfortunately, the shipment of masks never left the shop, and the supposed friend does not answer her call/messages anymore. 

 But, such deceptive behaviour on the pharmacist's part, or the refusal of the Indonesian governmentven to issue her a visa to go to Bali, even though she had bought the tickets much in advance, have not dampened Yu Yan's spirit. She continues to greet every new day with her sweet smile, pray for the quick recovery of her country,  her people, and  the world at large, learn French, try her hand at Indian cooking (yes, she can now make some great chapatis and curried potato vegetable) and "do plenty of yoga". Bravo!