Chai Pilgrimage

In the West, yoga is sometimes perceived as a type of physical workout that involves getting into tights and molding the body into contorted positions while keeping one’s hands in a prayer position.  The word yoga, however, literally means “union,” and is an ancient Indian spiritual science designed to bring about the union with, or realization of, our own Divinity.  Just as all religions can lead one to God, each created to suit the many different types of people and cultures, so there are various paths of yoga.  These yogic paths do not just involve standing on one’s head, but utilize the mind and heart as tools to help us become fully conscious of the One.  The four predominant yogic practices are Raja Yoga, which uses various methods to control the mind and enter into meditation; Jnana Yoga, or using knowledge to realize the Divine Truth; Bhakti Yoga, or the yoga of love and devotion to the Divine; and Karma Yoga, the yoga of doing selfless service for other living beings.

Chai Yoga, or the conscious preparation of chai, can also be taken as a path to enlightenment by incorporating the practice of one or more of these four yogas.  First, we compose a mindful awareness of our being on every level: our attitude, body, breath and senses.  In other words, clear the mind, be comfortable in the body, breath, and be aware of, but not overtaken by, sensory perceptions while preparing chai.  Only then can we access the depth of meditation that will allow union.  This is Raja Yoga.  This state of meditation is the door into the innermost mind, beyond thought, that is not separate from the cosmic mind, one with the simmering masala universe, wherein lies knowledge of Absolute Truth.  This deep wisdom is found through the practice of Jnana Yoga.

Love is always present.  It is the energy that binds the universe together as One.  If the first two yogas sound a little bit too out there, then we can embrace Bhakti Yoga, our innate love for the creator, as our path towards union.  We set the intention to prepare the best cup of chai we are capable of as an offering to our Divine Beloved.  With love in our hearts, a vision of the Divine Form in our mind’s eyes and praise on our lips, every movement we make as we prepare the chai is transformed into an expression of devotion.  Without attachment to the fruits of our labor, and expecting nothing in return for our kindness, our actions then become the practice of Karma Yoga.  Serving good-tasting, healthy chai is a great service to mankind.  And as we realize it is the Divine who is stirring the pot through our hands, the chai becomes a pure offering.

When one is fully engaged with a yogic practice, anything, even the simple act of making chai, can be an opportunity to consciously merge with the Divine Source. The secret is, to prepare the chai with utter sincerity, as if it will be the last time.

One unforgettable soul we were determined to reunite with on our chai pilgrimage was a young chai wallah named Shivam.  We met him on our previous visit to India and it was his loving memory that inspired us to return and document a tea-sipping journey.  At that time, Jenny and I were in Rishikesh and looking for a leisurely way to spend one of our final days in India together.  We decided it would be fun to just wander around and find places to drink chai.

The first chai shop we encountered was inside an unobtrusive, white cement building. The words Aman’s Tip Top Service Center on the sign were barely discernable beneath layers of dirt and smoke stains, but nonetheless, attracted us in for a peek. It was poorly lit on the inside and appeared unoccupied.  A low, pink, iron grate separated the ‘kitchen’ from two tables. On the shelves were toilet paper and cases of bottled water for sale, little else. Then we saw a small boy standing on a crate, still barely taller than the countertop, who seemed to appear from the ethers.  I pointed at him and asked, “chai wallah?” He looked up at us with bright, wide eyes and waggled his head. “Chai?” he asked.  “Do masala chai,” we responded together.

This was Shivam, the youngest chai wallah we had ever met.  He lit up his gas burner and quickly began working.  With scrunched forehead and eyebrows, he smashed a cardamom pod and a tiny nub of ginger and tossed them into the warming pot of water. He added loose black tea and milk and stirred the mixture with a metal spoon.  After coming to a boil he added a couple heaping spoonfuls of sugar and swirled the pot until it almost boiled over.  The pot looked twice the size of his head, but he handled it with the ease of someone who had made thousands of cups of chai.  He was focused.  His tongue stuck out in concentration as he poured the brew through a pink plastic strainer into another pot, then into two glasses.  He delivered our chai with a big, crooked grin.

The taste of that chai and Shivam’s adorable countenance remained etched onto our chai-loving hearts, until four years later, we went back to India seeking more simple, yet memorable, chai moments.  We returned to Aman’s Tip Top Service Center, same name, now serving biscuits and sodas, more tables, inside and out, and bustling with Western travelers who are likewise charmed by Shivam.  He has learned some pretty good English, probably more from his exposure to tourists, than from school.  When he is not in school, he works at his father’s shop making chai, now training his little brother.  We showed him some pictures we took of him on our last trip.  He looked at them and showed us his same endearing smile.