Chai, a beloved beverage in Indian culture, serves as a powerful metaphor for connection, memory, and healing, weaving through the fabric of family life and personal experiences.
If you are active on Instagram, you may have encountered a humorous reel suggesting that if Indians had been aboard the Titanic, they would have tried to savor their last few sips of chai before succumbing to the icy waters. When a friend shared this with me, I couldn’t help but nod in agreement.
Those who know me would likely say that my middle name could easily be “chai.” During my internship at an Ayurvedic hospital in India, my peers even created a dance in my honor called the “Chai-dance.” After enduring 14-hour shifts at the hospital and then working another eight hours for my commitments in the U.S. for over three weeks, chai was my lifeline, helping me navigate those exhausting days and nights.
Chai, or milk tea brewed in the traditional Indian style, holds a sacred place in the hearts of many Indians. It is more than just a beverage; it symbolizes family and memories. A cup of chai often serves as the backdrop for significant conversations—whether it’s life advice from elders, stories of migration, or whispered family secrets.
Even for those who do not drink chai, its cultural significance is widely recognized. It is a key ingredient in countless stories, traditions, travels, and celebrations, and is often the go-to beverage when asking for directions. The chai-waala ki dukaan, or corner tea shop, is a familiar landmark in every Indian city.
Making chai is a ritual steeped in remembrance, connection, and healing. The sound of choti elaichi (green cardamom pods) crackling, the sharp aroma of freshly grated ginger, and the steam rising as milk boils create a sensory experience that feels deeply personal. Each family has its unique twist on the recipe, with variations in spices and methods, reflecting individual traditions. You may have witnessed a cherished intergenerational moment in the kitchen, watching a parent or grandparent prepare their special chai, as this drink is anything but one-size-fits-all.
In many households, chai breaks provide a moment of respite for helpers, who often share gossip over this comforting beverage amidst the chaos of daily life. Offering chai is a gesture of love and hospitality in Indian culture; every guest is typically welcomed with a cup. I recall seeing shop owners in India serving chai to their customers, further emphasizing its role in fostering connections.
One of my fondest memories is sitting on the terrace of my husband’s ancestral home with his grandmother, Dadi. Despite our differences, we bonded over several cups of tulsi chai on crisp, foggy January mornings during our visits to India. In those quiet moments, chai became a language of love that transcended words.
As a child, I often accompanied my mother on shopping trips, which I found tedious. However, I cherished the moments spent sipping chai, as it represented a connection to our roots and traditions while adapting to new experiences. These shopping excursions were often for new brides in the family, transforming mundane errands into joyful connections.
Chai has also served as a confidante during difficult times. It has been present during moments of loss, exams, and significant life transitions, becoming both a comfort drink and a cultural staple. I vividly remember sipping chai after my father’s cremation and standing outside the ICU, unaware that it would be the last time I would see my father-in-law. In the midst of planning my father’s Chautha (memorial service) and my mother’s ninth death anniversary puja, I found solace at a tea stall by the hospital.
In my family, chai has always represented more than just boiled leaves and milk; it is an inheritance, akin to jewelry or old photographs. After my marriage, I bonded with my mother-in-law over our shared love for morning masala chai rituals. When I moved to New York City, chai became my anchor—a rare pause in a fast-paced world. In a city that often felt foreign, boiling water with crushed ginger, green cardamom, and tea leaves transformed my kitchen into an extension of every kitchen I had ever known.
Chai has been our universal language. After my mother passed away unexpectedly in her early sixties, chai became a means of bonding and healing for my father and me. For nearly nine years, we shared a daily ritual of sipping chai, reminiscing about memories and stories of my mother. However, after my father’s passing, chai lost its significance in my life.
In the wake of his death, I found myself sitting at the dining table, clutching a cup of chai that I barely tasted. The warmth against my palms grounded me when everything else felt chaotic. For months, I couldn’t bring myself to make masala chai; I settled for tea bags or instant chai. The ritual felt hollow, and the kitchen was too quiet without my father’s voice on the other end of the phone or the familiar rhythm of our conversations over chai.
It seemed unimaginable to continue drinking chai when the person who had introduced me to this sacred beverage and shared countless cups with me was gone. The cardamom lost its fragrance, the ginger tasted too sharp, and every sip reminded me of conversations that would never happen again. It felt as if chai had lost its sweetness, its meaning steeped in grief I was not ready to confront.
Eventually, I decided to forgo my morning chai altogether. Surprisingly, I did not miss it. My life philosophy revolves around asking, “Does it nourish me?” Chai no longer did. While I experienced no caffeine withdrawal, a sense of emptiness lingered. So much of life felt unfamiliar as I referred to many loved ones in the past tense. Chai had always symbolized connection, and without my father, it felt like an empty ritual, a ghost of what it once was.
Source: Original article