After capering long stretches, dodging potholes along the way that eagerly waits to deceive you, defending the chilly winds piercing your bone and descending the glens where the brake constantly tries negotiation between the tires and the tarmac; you arrive at a point where enthusiasm and excitement drop considerably. Your brain starts to make wrong calculations and eyelids start responding to the gravitational pull of earth; now the heart realizes that this is a perfect time that your mind and body badly need a break. Getting off the bike, stretching your backbone; hearing it crackle and having a hot drink rejuvenates your mind and body. Once you realize that you are riding in God’s Own country, the heart doesn’t give you a second to think about what drink you should have.
And I was in search of that.
A few hundred meters along the road, I spotted a small encampment made out of tarpaulin decorated with tons of LED light strips, blinking in red, yellow and green. I realized that that was a Chai-Makani (Tea shop) when I saw the board inclined at 30 degrees horizontal to the ground. And it read “Koya’s Tea stall.” I didn’t have to think twice before I kicked the neuter bar of my Royal Enfield.
Mr. Koyakka was busy cleaning the wooden shelf that displays the snacks he was about to fry. When he saw me coming, he hung the cloth with which he was cleaning the shelf on his shoulder, presenting me with a hundred watts bright smile displaying his entire stained teethes. He was wearing a pink lungi with yellow flowers printed on that, with a sleeveless inner vest with hundreds of holes that reminds me of fishing net. His extra large shiny baldness gave the 27 Watts ‘Philips Tornado’ an extra glow. Three old-timers dressed white and white were chatting over three empty cups of tea. Two of them had their handkerchief tied onto their head. They stared at me as if I was riding directly from Jupiter with all my gears. A light grin appeared on their lips as I removed them one by one. Finally, they realized I was a human.
All of a sudden Koyakka curled his fist and punched hard a gigantic ‘National’ radio installed in a corner. It woke up from a deep sleep, cleared its throat and started the chanting: “Baharon phool barsao……….” Muhammad Rafi was at his best. I was wondering which one was the oldest- Song or the Radio?
“So, where are you heading to?” asked old-timer no. 1 removing the handkerchief from his head. “I am in search of best Sulaimani,” I said. “You are in the right spot, Koyakka makes the best Sulaimani in the whole of Calicut,” said the second one with a broad smile. Mr. Koyakka got elated on hearing this. He took a deep breath and held it for a good thirty seconds with his head high up. His belly got reduced from Mt Everest to Mt Abu. “Shall I prepare one for you, son?” he asked to which my reply was a big YES. These Malabarians address young people, Son, as a token of hospitality.
He took out a glass tumbler, once transparent turned to translucent due to excessive usage, from a blue pan containing hot water for cleaning utensils. Next step was to mount the vessel with a cup of water onto the burning stove. He added two teaspoon sugar. After that, he got a few bottles from the scaffolding, which contained the secret ingredients- cardamom, clove, and clove rind. A pinch of Tea powder and a crushed mixture of these ingredients mixed in proportion was added to the boiling water. He brewed the concoction for two minutes and waited till the powder got settled. With utmost care, he transferred the tea into the glass so that not even pinches of powder get transferred. Koyakka held the glass in his left hand, cleansed the water droplets with a tattered piece of cloth on his shoulder, switched it to his right hand and presented it in front of me. There it was, in front of me; the most awaited cup of sulaimani.
I picked up the cup and brought it close to my nose to drink in the aroma. I spend a minute enjoying the sweet aroma. “My dear, drink it before it cools down,” said one of the old timers. I gave them a grin and started savoring one of the most delicious drinks of my life. That 200 ml blackish brown brew gave me a bliss that I never experienced in my life. My taste buds got excited, and every inch of my body sensed each sip. I did not go for a second cup as I was afraid that it might not taste as good as the first. I bid farewell to Koyakka and his clique and ignited the engine to life. As I shifted the gears up, I could see in my rearview mirror, Mr. Koyakka was smiling at me with gratification. “Next time, I will definitely stop by,” I said to myself as I shifted to Top gear.
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