Jai Ram’s chai in Chitrakoot.
Walking in the sweltering mid-morning sun on our way to the SitaRam temple, we were lured into a chai stand by a pair of smiling brown eyes beaming out from under a simple tarp-covered stall. As we sat down on the low bench, Jai Ram, the chai wallah, attempted to touch our feet, a gesture of profound reverence usually reserved for holy swamis or Bramins, members of the highest social caste. Considering ourselves casteless and on equal footing, we quickly slid our feet out of the way. Once again we were humbled by the custom of treating the guest as God.
Jai Ram is a vendor of chai, pan, cigarettes, Parle G’s and miscellaneous snacks. Just as we ordered our chais, the dudh wallah (milkman) pulled up on his bicycle, weighted down with metal canisters, to deliver the day’s fresh milk. As seems common in Chitrakoot, Jai Ram makes his chai with adrak (ginger), peeling it first, then smashing it with a weight on his wooden platform held up by bricks. Ginger acts as a diaphoretic, meaning it can make you sweat, which has the effect of cooling down the body. After the ginger simmered in with the milk, water, tea and sugar, he smashed up two green cardamom pods and added them to the mixture.
As the chai bubbled, he gazed intently into the pot, as though empowering it with a prayer. He gave his whole self to preparing our chai, every movement deliberate and graceful. Each hand gesture was like a secret chai wallah mudra. As we watched him slowly pour the milk or twirl the pot or spoon in the sugar, it was as if we sat before a temple priest making offerings to God.
In proper tea fashion not typical of chai stalls, Jai Ram strained our chai into a metal teapot, and then poured it into our glasses atop a decorative serving platter. As he served us, he bowed his head and again tried to touch our feet. Again we pulled our feet back and bowed.
We sipped our chai slowly to enjoy Jai Ram’s company and take respite from the heat. Our conversation was sparse, after only a few weeks of Hindi lessons, but so much was said in the silence. It was quite a tasty cup of masala chai. It reminded me of home. Jenny gave one of the Ganesh cards she painted to Jai Ram as a gift. He smiled, held it to his head and placed it on his altar next to images of Sita, Ram and Hanuman.
