Chai Pilgrimage

Click the arrow below to hear these women singing, or click the link to download the mp3.

Choti Maharaj’s Ashram in Vrindavan, India: Sita Ram Radhe Sham

Religion and Spirituality are the essence of Indian culture. At any time, wherever you are, there are reminders of India’s religious diversity and our relationship with the Divine.

Religious dress distinguishes Hindu women in saris, Muslims in burqas and Tibetan Buddhists with red and yellow robes. People greet one another with hands over their heart while saying the sacred salutation “Namasté” or “As-salam Alaykum.” Children are named after Hindu Gods and Goddesses or companions of the prophet Mohammed. Even restaurants and other businesses bear the name of God, like Buddha Airlines, Hanuman Tea or Ram Milk Sweets.

God’s names echo across the city, as chants from temples or the call to prayer from mosques broadcast through blaring loudspeakers. Throughout the day there are processions celebrating a marriage with drumming, dancing and flashing lights, or honoring a death by carrying the colorfully wrapped body through the streets, chanting Ram Nam Satya Hai (the name of God is Truth). Flowers, ghee lamps and incense are offered at roadside shrines. Street musicians sing devotional songs to God. Wondering monks ask for alms. Images of Hindu deities hang on the walls of chai shops while carved stone icons silently observe.

Although chai is not a doctrine of any faith, (except perhaps our own), it seemed to be the element that transcended all gender, age, caste or religion. Like God, chai was everywhere. So, as we traveled through Nepal and Northern India, we drank up not only chai, but also the rich spiritual way of life.

Click the arrow below to hear one man’s morning prayer on the Ganga in Benares, or click the link to download the mp3.

Ganga Solo

Sikkim, India: Rumtek Monastery Chanting

Click link below to hear chai call!
train platform chai callllllll

You wake up into a dream somewhere in the middle of India. The rhythmic rocking back and forth that first lulled you to sleep is suddenly disrupted by the high-pitched screeching of metal against metal and a jerking halt — almost throwing you out of your bunk — followed by doors banging, cold wind blowing and the frantic sound of ‘foreign’-speaking travelers fighting to get on and off the train. Then, an echoing chorus of baritone voices all singing the same repetitive two-syllable melody, “chai-ee, chai-eeeee, chai-eeeeeee!” weave together into a cacophonous symphony cutting through all the other noise.

The dream blends into reality as your eyes open to the blurry vision of a steaming aluminum teakettle and a bucket of clay cups attached to a dark skinny man behind a thick black mustache moving up the isle. You are not dreaming. Desperately fishing your tired fingers through pockets wrapped up in a twisted sleeping bag, you finally procure 4 rupees and return the call, “Ji, ek chai!” One chai, sir! You meet eyes as he navigates through the luggage-laden throng to your bedside.

With pointed awareness, he pours a dark, thick stream of chai into a small clay cup, raising the pot as he pours, for a frothy finish, without spilling a drop. He places the hot cup in your welcoming hands, warming your fingers and dampening your face with tea-perfumed moisture. The earthen cup touches your dry lips and the sugary, spiced chai rolls over your tongue, awakening your taste buds, slowly spilling warmth across your throat and down through the center of your chest into your stomach, warming you to the core. Ahhhhhhh, yes. All the painstaking travel has just paid off again with another perfect cup of Indian chai.