Until I turned nineteen,
I never considered where I had been.
I couldn't be seen.
As I have never been on the scene.

Every morrow, I called out to my aunt
To express my love,
and welcome a cup of tea
That is dear to me.

"I hailed to thee,
Aunty, tea."
When she delays a little,
I became a prattle.

A mature lady smiles and places a cup of tea
What a great human is she!

As I had to traverse to another city,
I had to shift to a hostel that had no tea
Not a day did I receive
A mere cup of tea.

Every morrow, every eve,
All I yearn about is only her and I.


Like a mother, the love she showered.
Like a roe,
Neither did I apprehend
Nor did I reciprocate.
Here my mind does thoroughly replicate.
                .... TEA....

Every morrow, every eve
I buy tea,
Just by paying the fee
which I used to get for free.

Not lovingly calling Aunty tea
But,
To an unrelated shopkeeper
Asking, 'Bhaiyah Tea'.

Your presence,
gets me high on you,
as you drive out me blues.
The more I try to
abstain, I can't.
The very sight of you,
makes me want you more,.
The rush in my body
matches none when
you're there.
My morning tonic,
the breeze during rain,
the sunset enhancer
and finally the one
who watches me fall asleep.
You've become a constant
in my life, without which
I'd die.
And that's for you,
Chai!

Chipotle Chili Challenge champions cheerfully choose chocolate chai cheesecakes

she was chai
exotic and thrilling.
i was addicted
drowning in her spices
her taste overwhelming me
engulfing me
but while i craved her
wanted her
she could never fulfil
the thirst in me.

i am parched
and i have no water.

Sipping on happiness,
Sadness withering away
as the sun lingers on my skin.
It’s a beautiful day today.

On my right,
The creativity is thriving
Minds are filled with abstraction;
She can’t be stopped.
The pencil moves as colour imprints
With the magic of a hand,
This is all human doing.
Her mind is as beautiful as this day
The sun shining
is the highlight of her drawing
The rich soil
Is the colour she creates
The wind
Is the way her hand moves.
Thé Chai is right in front of me
It’s a bright day today.

Closing my eyes, I sit on my chair with tea,
sipping and cupping my chai with please.
Its cinnamon scent wafts through the air,
sending pleasant shivers everywhere.

Hints of cardamon slide down my throat with ease,
the musky mix of spices and black tea.
Slowly, I release my back to rest comfortably,
on the back of the old chair, that my mother gave me.

You remind me of Chai tea.

You're warm, and sweet, and you make me want to curl up with you on a rainy day, tangled in bedsheets and watching the rain pitter patter on the window, in my pajamas and my hair piled up atop my head, listening to soft music that speak of lazy love and croon of kisses.

You make me think of tan sweaters and unrecognizable spices, alluding to all the mystery I don't know and want to know, devouring you like I would a good book on a crisp autumn day. You make me want to take a road trip to a forest where the fog comes meandering in, and I sit in the backseat, talking about life-to me, to you, or my non-metaphorical, quite literal, tea.

You make me want to slow down, and sit in a coffee shop and work on a book, or admire the chipped mug that you came in.

You remind me of Chai tea, and all that we could be.

I never told you I would leave.
Us;
In an airplane over Russia;
Our feet slipping into skates too small;
Sipping a distinctive type of chai.
You know me too familiar.
When I shiver, so do you.
We speak in our own language,
One in which the light bends
From your sapphire eyes;
One in which we are twins.
We burn together.

in summer.
To be free.

<I love you in every transatlantic mile.>

Brisk, warm, and easy to move on
No, not talking about a one night stand,
The cutting as they call,
The chai with the twist
Just enough to momentarily pause
Before you dive right back in
to the whirlwind of hope

茶


Cruciform character;  flowering daughter of orient Wisdom’s delight

A hymn to thee, beloved bush and Tree of Life, I raise.

May thy plucked leaves forevermore renew their gracious budding

Even as thy captured progeny produce, in death, thy praise

Like captive Hebrew exiles driven far from Zion’s hill

Loving still their Judge and punisher, recalling golden days…

In this cup of glorious elixir, infusing life with cheer

Asia’s attributes unveil, while I upon her marvels gaze.

Serenity enfolding, I forget all those before

In a rapturous caress I swiftly yield to her embraces

Nevermore to recall the ****** bean of Abyssinian lore

Ethiopian witch and desert hag, dark seed of nomadic races!

Now I hail the truth, whose leaf I love: L’chaim to the brew I adore

So sit with me and sip some cha. Let us kiss her myriad faces.

I scribe these lines in gratitude to that plant who soothes and inspires

Sweet Camellia, my love…  I read in the leaves
                                your ascending triumphant traces.