Cutting

There is a tea stall close to my house. He sells tea, samosas and vada pao. I should add, he sells amazing tea, and at a cost that is Re. 1 lesser than other tea sellers across Mumbai. I usually drink two cuttings. Cutting is a kind of unit. The small glass has a mark near its neck. Tea is filled upto that mark – and is called cutting. It’s not more than 3-4 sips.

There is a shop next to the tea stall. In the morning, it remains closed. So it’s stairs becomes my sofa. I take the cutting, and rest my back on the shutter of the closed shop. It is strangely relaxing. I see people rushing all around. I guess that’s what gives me peace for those few minutes – that they are rushing, and I am not. Probably, that is the reason why I drink two cuttings: it lets me have peace for extra few minutes.

There was a small broken wall opposite the tea stall. The morning sun would warm that area with its rays. Couple of days, I took the cutting and sat there, in the sun. Even though Mumbai winters are not really winters, there is often nip in the air, and the mild sun of the morning warms the body like nothing else. I shared that wall with other men and women, who too, probably parked their butts on the broken wall to extract some peace out of the hustle bustle of daily life.

I saw a lady sitting on that wall without tea. Actually, she was sitting there without anything. I felt amazed at that. No one doesn’t do nothing in Mumbai. She wasn’t drinking tea, wasn’t reading a paper, wasn’t looking into her cell phone, wasn’t talking to anyone, not even waiting for anyone. She was just sitting there. Probably thinking about the life passed or the one coming in few minutes. Then she got up and left. I didn’t feel good about it. I wanted her to keep sitting there at least for as long as I did. I wanted her to enjoy nothingness like me, and not be worried about the future – some place no one has ever been to. But she just left. I won’t say that I felt what Pi would have felt when Richard Parker left him, but may be, I can now appreciate that feeling just a tinge more.

Today, I saw that there was no broken wall there. It was cemented. The wall was constructed. I don’t know what the purpose was, but I know those construction workers took away my peace of mind. Now there is no place which is hidden from the milling crowd. Only the footpath is there. I find it strange how every time I sat on the footpath with my cutting, the sweeper would come to sweep the road, giving the endless dust particles the entropy they don’t deserve, and I don’t prefer.

There is one more tea stall opposite my tea stall. I don’t know why I don’t go to him. When I came to this area, I started having tea at his tea stall only. But for some reason, which I don’t remember, I moved to my tea stall. Both give cutting at Rs. 5. In fact, he has shifted, I believe temporarily to a new place which gives him strategic locational advantage. There are sun rays at his stall in the morning, which go away as the rays grow in strength. I still don’t know why I don’t go to his tea stall. May be I am in love with the stall and those stairs which give me peace of mind.

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