A Cup of Tea and Lifetime of Memories

Tea holds a special place in my life because it reminds me of many people and moments. This cold morning, as I sipped my tea, the warmth took me back to the chilly mornings at the Ladies’ Hostel in Walwa during my undergraduate days at Krantisinh Nana Patil College. In those days, tea felt like a secret treasure because it was not allowed in our hostel. Instead, our mornings always began with poha, upit, or shira, while our wish for a hot cup of tea stayed quietly in the background. 

Our college was about a kilometre away from the hostel, and the road leading to it was lined with tall coconut and mango trees. On cold mornings, their shadows made the air feel even colder. My desire for a hot cup of tea would grow stronger with every step.

But tea was like a forbidden fruit for us—it was banned in the hostel, and we weren’t allowed to have it outside either, not even in a hotel or canteen. Our college didn’t have a proper canteen then. There was only one small stall on campus, but no girls ever went there.

But God always finds a way to solve even the smallest problems in my life. That’s why I often feel like His special child. On my way to college lived my friend Reshma—talkative, cheerful, and full of life. And her family was even kinder than she was. Every morning, I would stop outside her house to walk with her to college. She usually took five to seven minutes to get ready, so I waited while her home buzzed with warmth and kindness. 

While I waited, her mother would step out with a warm smile and offer me a cup of tea. She never took no for an answer—she insisted lovingly, as if that tea was her way of sending a little warmth with me for the day. 

Reshma's brother, Sameer Bhaiya, was into floriculture. He grew beautiful tube roses and even exported them. One day, in a light-hearted mood, I told him, “Sameer Bhaiya, you must be very close to God—almost like His friend.”

Surprised, he asked, “How?”

I replied, “Because the flowers you grow with so much care are offered directly at God’s feet. Your work reaches Him first. I think I should also take up floriculture one day.”

He laughed and said, “Don’t be silly. You were born to be a teacher. You will shape students’ lives, and that puts you directly in the heart of God. Teaching is the most noble profession.”

His words have stayed with me ever since—the thought that I live in the heart of God still gives me strength.

So many years have passed. Reshma’s mother is no longer with us, and time has changed everything around us. But the warmth and care they gave me during my hostel days still stay with me like a soft glow in my heart. Some people and their kindness never fade, no matter how much life moves on.