Chai Pilgrimage

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.