A decision had to be taken. I have been doing the
lubrication and the support part since a few months. I checked my contact
lists, and then I checked my diaries.
"There’s none", I sighed while putting down the idea along with the contact book, "there is none, I can talk to".
Time was of essence; "Either return to duty or don't come, ever, at all". Simple language; clear words; obvious implications.
The only one left to speak with was my tea. I waited for the minute hand to touch base twelve, an effortless approach of the minute hand and a freaking, steady walk of the second hand. The hour hand, probably was as undecided as me, I couldn't figure it moving. But finally after a suitable pause that must have been infinity in some other dimension, the clock did tick 3 p.m.
Putting the water in is the easiest task. Adding sugar was act of reflex. The most difficult part is adding the tea leafs. I added few, and then added a few more and then a bit more again. Preparing tea is a more enchanting process then making coffee. Perhaps the people having super vision and a very sound nose will disagree with me. For me, watching a tea boil is a lot like attending church. You can't do it better, you can't do it worst. And you can't afford to fall asleep either.
First the tea leaves they start swimming up then realizing there is no way out they return towards bottom. Very soon they realize that, there is no way out. Trapped, if I can say, trapped in a current of boiling water. It is a beautiful dance to experience. Very soon they start leaking color and soon enough water too feels drunk and joins the dance, hand in had with the leaves. Slowly, very slowly, the water starts loosing his identity and converts to a hot brown fluid.
"Am I using too much of tea?", probably I had. The ball room was feeling overcrowded.
The dance of love that had begin itself eight years back was feeling more like a rugby match. The only thing of attention that remains in the hall is people bumping into each other. Very soon, instead of a place to find the perfect match it was a struggle to continue your steps. One pushes here, a push there, a knee here, an elbow there.
Frankly, for the young, the inexperienced once, it is difficult to judge. The cold, unrelated people, feel too thin to occupy the scene. It isn't until the music sinks in, the heat masses up, that they start taking space. It isn't until it is too late to stop that you realize the place is over crowded.
The aroma that had enchanted me for so long was now becoming unbearable.
"I put too much in too less of water". Adding water would be a stupid choice; for a short moment, ever considered adding milk to it.
This tea was supposed to be the tastiest of my collection. The tea leaves were exotic. But the scene, in front, was turning chaotic. Felt more like dancing garbage. Smelled more like boiled leaf water.
I picked up the phone. Took the tea pot and flushed the tea down the sink.
Amazingly, life isn't this easy. Once you have chosen a partner, you want to keep on dancing. Once you have put your life into something, you just don't want to give it up. But then, a tea has to be tea.
"There’s none", I sighed while putting down the idea along with the contact book, "there is none, I can talk to".
Time was of essence; "Either return to duty or don't come, ever, at all". Simple language; clear words; obvious implications.
The only one left to speak with was my tea. I waited for the minute hand to touch base twelve, an effortless approach of the minute hand and a freaking, steady walk of the second hand. The hour hand, probably was as undecided as me, I couldn't figure it moving. But finally after a suitable pause that must have been infinity in some other dimension, the clock did tick 3 p.m.
Putting the water in is the easiest task. Adding sugar was act of reflex. The most difficult part is adding the tea leafs. I added few, and then added a few more and then a bit more again. Preparing tea is a more enchanting process then making coffee. Perhaps the people having super vision and a very sound nose will disagree with me. For me, watching a tea boil is a lot like attending church. You can't do it better, you can't do it worst. And you can't afford to fall asleep either.
First the tea leaves they start swimming up then realizing there is no way out they return towards bottom. Very soon they realize that, there is no way out. Trapped, if I can say, trapped in a current of boiling water. It is a beautiful dance to experience. Very soon they start leaking color and soon enough water too feels drunk and joins the dance, hand in had with the leaves. Slowly, very slowly, the water starts loosing his identity and converts to a hot brown fluid.
"Am I using too much of tea?", probably I had. The ball room was feeling overcrowded.
The dance of love that had begin itself eight years back was feeling more like a rugby match. The only thing of attention that remains in the hall is people bumping into each other. Very soon, instead of a place to find the perfect match it was a struggle to continue your steps. One pushes here, a push there, a knee here, an elbow there.
Frankly, for the young, the inexperienced once, it is difficult to judge. The cold, unrelated people, feel too thin to occupy the scene. It isn't until the music sinks in, the heat masses up, that they start taking space. It isn't until it is too late to stop that you realize the place is over crowded.
The aroma that had enchanted me for so long was now becoming unbearable.
"I put too much in too less of water". Adding water would be a stupid choice; for a short moment, ever considered adding milk to it.
This tea was supposed to be the tastiest of my collection. The tea leaves were exotic. But the scene, in front, was turning chaotic. Felt more like dancing garbage. Smelled more like boiled leaf water.
I picked up the phone. Took the tea pot and flushed the tea down the sink.
Amazingly, life isn't this easy. Once you have chosen a partner, you want to keep on dancing. Once you have put your life into something, you just don't want to give it up. But then, a tea has to be tea.
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