Tea cups

Today has been a nice day. Just nice. With the promise of impending winter. With the sunshine which felt so so welcome in the slight chill.

And a chance encounter with a blog with foodie tid bits about the city, really put me in the right mood for a cuppa!


Half a teaspoon of one of my favourite teas - The Spiced Imperial - by Whittard of Chelsea. Here's how they describe it: "..smooth black tea,..enriched with the taste of cinnamon bark and fragrant citrus peel, scented with spiky cloves and long dark pods of vanilla." It smells as good as it sounds, and for thee senses, is pure pleasure!


A teaspoon of the strong Red Label Tea (in Hindustan Lever's own words.." healthy, with a combination of tea leaves and tea dust"). Ha ha, healthy, robust and no nonsense. For those who like their tea strong - very strong. Tan tana tan!


Mix with a cube of sugar. And let it brew, let it brew, let it brew.


Add two teaspoons of milk and, voila! cuppa to be enjoyed with the fading light on the terrace.


Oh and top it with a drop of pure ginger juice..this one from Kerala is super.
And if you add more than four drops in a cup, it feels like you've bitten into a b@$$^y sharp ginger..
Like I did today :)

A daze and a doze on a winter afternoon

On the verge of dozing off in the warm sunshine on a winter afternoon amidst the flowers, the trees and the green green grass. A recurring cacophany of sounds from the main road prevents deep sleep in the lawn. Just as well. Still have the energy to open one eye slightly, each time an interesting sound catches the attention. A moment ago it was the ghungroos tied around the legs of a running camel. The perfect blend of tiny metal balls striking against the little brass buds. The eager pace of the camel showing off happily. If it had a voice, I can almost imagine it hum a tune as it runs.

A bus braked with a very jarring screech and we all looked at each other and almost laughed at the ugly sound. How would the poor camel brake I wondered, just before closing the eyes again. Our own Ghunghroo meantime is hiding from the sun. Maybe thanking his stars for the neem tree which hides the rays of the setting sun. The poor tree. So large and dense with its own particular brand of dark green. Shrugs its pod laden shoulders gently in the breeze - 'can't please everyone', it thinks, as it turns some of the leaves to savour the sun. And we all doze off once again. Us, the flowers, the trees and the green green grass. On this winter afternoon.