Spilling The Tea

“Never go back to a place where you have been happy. Until you do it remains alive for you. If you go back it will be destroyed.” - Agatha Christie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite the general consensus against flying, he looked forward to the “me time”; watching movies, eating, and sleeping while being attended to. Not today.

He had not eaten a single meal, and was looking forward to meeting his mates, after almost four decades. He asked for an orange juice, adjusted the headphones, and pulled the blanket up to his neck.

Spinning the clock back in his mind, he smiled. It had been a daily ritual of sorts at the local chai-wallah, the owner known simply as 'Uncle'. His mob of teenagers would leave the place either when ‘Uncle’ closed for the day, or when their banter was exhausted. Usually, it was the former.

At the time, it seemed like they would grow old together, in the same time and place. Even when their career paths diverged, they continued the soirée unabated. Jabber of playing Cricket turned to discussing the game, there being no time left to play from the pursuit of happiness, a la Economics.

Daily catch-ups turned to weeklies until the span stretched to months and geographies. Videoconferencing provided a fun alternative but the novelty wore off. Promises to sync again diluted and broke. After reviving connections on socials, he had suggested a meetup and was almost in tears when the mob agreed en masse.

After landing, and navigating the usual drills at the airport, he hailed a cab, and settled back to enjoy the nostalgia rushing past as the driver made his way to the destination, replete with honking, cursing, and breaking traffic rules. He would catch up with his buddies before heading home to see his family.

When he alighted at the rendezvous spot, he had to stretch for a bit. The ride had taken its toll on his lower back and it was something he didn't miss from the old days when a rough ride was part of everyday life.

His friends, now balding and graying, not unlike himself, were as welcoming as he could remember. They hugged him and complimented him on his physique; quite the contrast from their sagging chests and growing bellies.

“Foreign countries keep you fit, yaar. Everyone is into exercise and fitness!” One of his mates teased him.

“Arrey, I ask you what is the need to struggle with exercise at this age? Who's going to a Mr. India contest, huh? Enjoy life!” Another shared his philosophy.

He just laughed along because he was happy to be back in their company, and at Uncle's.

“Hey buggers,” he finally asked, “Where's the chai?”

“You still remember, no? Bugger’s not changed a bit that way!”

“Of course I remember.” He laughed. “Now, let's order a round or five.”

“No more Uncle's chai, man. He was bought over by that big American cafe chain!”

“What? No.”

“Ya! Hey, but they make a good latte, okay?”