My dearest chai lovers,

I have been mulling about the meaning of an Urdu word, takaluf, for a while. It is difficult to accurately translate it in English and sometimes even hard to explain it to a native speaker. Technically, it can mean ‘formality’, ‘etiquette’ or ‘mannerisms’. Personally for me it is much more than that and I hope you will agree after reading this entire letter.

I hope you are comfortable in your preferred mode of furniture. I prefer a couch while reading however, sometimes even the dining chair suffices. Now dip that guilty biscuit in your steaming hot chai and listen.

The host and the guest share a relationship that is of significant importance. Each time they meet no matter how serious and deep their connection, their initial exchange is customary dance of words. The host is the metaphorical male dancer who extends an invitation for tea and samosas. Such an offer is politely declined by the guest once and after further reluctance, the host gently takes matter in their own hands. The dance revolves into a frenzy of “yes” and “no” eventually resulting in a hesitant “yes, but just ONE cup of tea!!”. The cup of tea in reality, depending on the latest grocery excursion, is merely an excuse for the humble heaving trolley of high tea. All through the ‘tea’, the guest will repeatedly exclaim at the lavishness of the victorious host, admonish them for their generosity and invite them for a similar event in the near future.

Such a scenario varies depending on the relationship between the host and the guest. If they are family or friends, the dance is shortened and honesty relieves them both from their post. Personal feeling for the guest is also accounted. If tension is nestling within both the parties a simple cup of tea suffices and the guest is sent packing with a sigh of relief. If new ties are in the process of being formed, that cup of tea is the precursor to a dinner secretly cooking away and revealed only when the guests are at their weakest i.e. giddy with laughter over a decade old joke.

It is the feeling within a host who insists on keeping their mehmaan’s plate heaving with food. It is hidden and tucked away in the folds of familial bonds and blood ties in time of need.  It is a word found amongst new friends and gradually lost over time. It is the hesitant look on a face while receiving. When a dinner for one is shared by two even three people. When someone goes out of their route to drop another off safely to their destination. It is the curved cup handle that reminds me of a kind listening ear. And the eager lips welcoming the sip of the milky concoction.

It hardly took up any weight in my suitcase when I shifted to England yet has grown within me and it is something I will pass on.

Watchful “tey”, statuesque “kaaf” and the humble “fay”, they all form the backbone of the east.

Your mayzbaan,

Sania