Tea AND Sex - 2

After Punu left I walked straight into my kitchen and desired tea. The brew didn’t turn out pleasant and I couldn’t go beyond a few torturous sips. I though he departed with the life from the dead tea leaves. I looked around, my world hadn’t changed much but it did appeared a little pale with awful after taste of the tea.

I realised that I need to meet Punu before he gets away, too far never to be seen and heard. I pulled on my pullover, it was evening and a bit chilly now. Looked for Marsh, my dog, the most stupid dog in town but a good companion. He was at his usual place doing what he does best – dreaming and drooling. He plucked his ear when he saw me rushing toward him, he kind of knew it was emergency and miraculously came to alert and followed me.

In 30 min Punu could have gone as far as the bazaar after checking out of the cheap inn where he almost stayed for free when he was in town. I knew where to look for him and ran as fast as I could. It was 7 PM and my eyes were searching for him frantically and then finally I spotted him at the far corner of the bazaar at the bus stop. I stopped so did Marsh.

Punu was with a beautiful young girl and she held his hand and looked dreamily into his eyes. And the next moment they got on to the bus – Punu was leaving with the opposite sex never to be seen again. He finally seem to have found his flavour of fair sex.

Tea AND Sex – 1

I love tea not any tea but the brew of the best of the best tea delivered by ‘Punu’ the tea seller. He comes around every three months when I am about to run out of tea and replenish my stock. I maintain a neat raw of tea boxes for each type of tea – white, yellow, green, oolong, black and tisane. The boxed were heirloom, passed to me after my father died; he was a tea connoisseur.

It was a bright sunny summer afternoon in the hills and I was looking for the man who sold the best tea in the world. He never stayed at one place, his profession carried him far and away, that is what he told everybody. Everyone knew it was not the tea which made him travel but something else which he never shared. He always regaled his patrons with his stories about his travel and journey to China, Sri Lanka, Turkey and Kenya; keeping everybody charmed.

Punu secretly believed someday his love would enter his small tea kingdom and stay for good. He was forty, looked fifty; experience showing through deep furrows on the forehead and fine lines on the face.  The family trade was to source best tea from different part of the world and passes it on to the tea crazy. He might have been young once but all he could remember was that he had been a tea seller all his life; he automatically eased into his fathers boots.

I saw him yesterday resting under the tree on the other side of the busy bazaar. He carelessly sprawled romanticising in the direction of the busy shops. I didn’t want to break the spell so I passed on quickly pretending I didn’t notice him. Today he was not there anymore. I asked and checked around but no one saw him. I knew he would come around to deliver my quota and then in the evening he appeared from nowhere and knocked on the main gate. I answered it and invited him in. Punu was not his usual self; he quietly walked in and sat on the cold floor of the porch – his usual place. I offered him water which he refused.

He looked lost and in a pensive mood; very unlike the always cheerful Punu. He opened his bag and handed the tea tin to me – the best Turkish tea leaves straight from the tea plantation carefully handpicked and dried and packed to be delivered to the tea lover. I opened the lid and the whiff of the tea lightened me up and transported me to tea heaven. I expected a story but no story seems to be forthcoming from Punu.

“I have been thinking lately about  my nomad life, wife, kids and old age. I have been traveling since I do not know when and I visit home like a visitor once in two years. I want to grow roots and settle down and see my kids grow.” He stopped talking and looked upward as if there was someone who was encouraging him to leave what he loved the best. His passion had been selling tea but no longer he wanted to do it; he came to say goodbye.