Story for Kaitley:
She was a fearless and joyful woman who brooched no nonsense from anybody about her tea. In the morning, only half awake she would brew her first cup, crushed ginger and scant milk. Her solitary breakfast would feature a strong cup of it, with stacks of buttery toast. She would rev up her scooty and ride to her work as an art designer in Egmore, Chennai.
Endless paper cups of tea shared with her creative team, they were a great group. In the evening, they would order glasses of tea for all from the tea stall, and then it would be journey back home. She mildly ignored her nosy relatives about when she planned to ‘settle down’ and washed up her dozen cups of tea with a smile.
One sultry evening, her scooty broke down on a deserted road. As there was no one to rescue her, she dragged it to the closest workshop. The scruffy mechanic quietly motioned her to sit down on the steel bench while he got to work repairing the vehicle.
It was fate that brought the prospective groom to her parents, she found out that he was the same ‘mechanic’ who had repaired her scooty weeks ago. She said yes, after all, the man did have some useful employment.
The wedding was a grand affair and the in-laws amiable. On the morning of her first day at their house her soft spoken mother-in-law told her, beti have your tea before he wakes up and then please take him his black coffee. She found that the man she had married hated the sight of tea, could not drink milk, and sugar was lethal to him. She felt the cup slip away from her shaky hands…