My Person or My Kindred Spirit


I am a child of the subcontinent. The remnant if the British Colony and been handed over their custom of drinking a hot cup of chai twice a day… or so all the old folks say.

I am very fond of my tea. I take particular pleasure in drinking my cuppa every morning and evening. I am so possessive about my tea that if I havent drained a cup in a whole day I make a huge tantrum and basically have “donot approach” sign on my forehead. My husband says its a self fulfilling prophecy, but I seriously sincerely end up with a headache if I dont have tea. Nothing else will do.
Nothing.
Its like my “person“…. or my “kindred spirit” like out of an Anne of Green Gables’ novel, which I gulp heartily away.
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