The Grand Chaa Escape : The Unforgettable Tea

Growing up, Gurmeet Tai, was more than someone who worked in our house. She was an expert roti maker on big iron Loh, and undisputed CEO making delicious chaa (tea). I basically lived at her house. Every single day off from school I would see her and ask her with big hopeful eyes “Tai Ji, will you take me to your house today”? and every single time she would smile and take me and the other times she won't and say “Bhalke le k jau Pkka”! (will take you with me, tomorrow). Now my little brain thought “bhalke” meant “evening” so I would sit patiently, convinced she’d return to pick me up. But she never did. Looking back, my grandmother (bibiji) had probably warned her as I was getting too used to going with her.

Honestly, the favorite part of going to her house was her hospitality and her royal treatment towards me and to my brother as he accompanied me some days. Gurmeet Tai’s house was almost 20 minutes far from my house, tucked in a narrow street. Children would run barefoot in those lanes, and the surrounding was such that every neighbor knew each other’s business. It was a simple home with two rooms, with a small front yard. Sometimes, we were welcomed with smell of fresh mud and water hinting that she had polished her ground to keep the dust settled to keep her space clean as she used to tell I knew you kids were coming. But we loved her anyway, whether the yard was freshly done or not, whether her fan worked or not due to the power cut. There was a lone tree in that yard and next to it was her “Chulha” (traditional stove) whose Chaa we all kids craved for! (or I craved the most).

One summer afternoon, I had simply had enough of waiting for Tai to take me to her house. My cousins, my Bhui’s kids were visiting us for the vacations, and we were all around the same age- obviously, maximum chaos. I convinced my brother and 2 of my cousins.

“Tai ghar chlliye?

(Shall we go to Tai’s house?)

My cousin enquired, “Maami hun ethe ne?”

“Is she here to take us?”

With a chuckle, I said,

“Nahi, aapa aap hi jaande aa!”

We sneaked out from our house, like a group of unskilled spies. The moment we showed up at her house, she was absolutely horrified. She offered us chair, with series of questions.

“Did you tell anyone, you came here?”

“Don’t tell me you crossed the road all by yourselves”!

We didn’t answer her anything it was just giggling, more giggling. She went straight to making tea. So, there we were enjoying “Chaa” and munching biscuits unaware of the hurricane which was about to come! After we enjoyed the tea Tai insisted on escorting us back home. By the time we reached home Bibiji was in full mood to declare a war. The moment she saw us; she was just furious. She let out a string of kind Punjabi words that made us reconsider her life choices!

“Did you’ll come from Valet (England) that you’ve never had Chaa made on chulha”? and a few solid dialogues, Finally, Bhui (paternal aunt) came to our rescue, so we survived bibiji’s lecture, but I was guilty of dragging my poor cousins into my adventure.

Years later, Gurmeet Tai no longer works at our house- as her knees aren’t what they used to be. But she casually drops by now and then and everytime we chat about those heartwarming memories. Ahh, purely hilarious! Memories so hilarious that I can’t even sum up in a single blog.

People like her have shaped our childhood in ways we didn’t realize back then. And one thing I love the most is how we had a beautiful relationship with all the people who worked for us, be it in the fields, our shop or at home, we never called them, ‘uncle’ or ‘Aunty’. Our parents and grandparents always taught us that if someone is older, they were Taya or Tayi and if they were younger than your parents address them as ‘Chacha’ or ‘Chachi’. And while the life moves on, some things never change. Some values just stick with you even today if I (or my sibs) meet someone my parents age we instinctively call them taya or tayi.

“Ess tra sahmne wale bande da maan wad janda” as bibi would preach us.

(This way, the next person’s sense of pride grows)

Some people are like those cups of tea- unforgettable and comforting. There homes may be small, but they hold the true richness in their hearts which no wealth can buy!

Illustration: Pinterest

( P.S. It’s been a while since I last talked to Tai. Just the other day, my brother and I were randomly getting nostalgic about our childhood memories with her, and I thought, why not turn those moments into a blog? Now, I’m thinking of giving her a call and asking my mom to tell her I wrote about her :)