How it take somewhere warmer?

Chai, Chaya — it oscillates from this to that, depending on the circumstances in my home. I am married to someone from Punjab, a part of North India where tea and alcohol are regarded with great love as we are in Kerala. So it becomes that Chaya when I am with my companion, and it is mainly made with the patience and perfection of crushed ginger. On some days, when we want to spice it up, we add cardamoms or bay sticks. Oh yes, today is a day with more healthy vibes; then the mint leaves, Indian basil leaves, and carom leaves come in, all minty, basily or carromy, or is it a confused concoction which gives us a feeling that it is all good in our world. This version is resorted to when heavy eating and some guilt have been lingering. Once this confused concoction goes in, that guilt is purged, and we get ready for another round of gluttony.

But the supreme is the Chaya; no version is as good as it. Yes, I can hear the protest from far north! There is ever-lasting debate on which is better, chai or Chaya or, in a very slightly different context — desi daroo or toddy.
For the first Chaya, she is simple; she does not require the spices’ paraphernalia to spice her up, nor the bounty from nature’s leaves. She peppers herself with two simple, well, fact 3, straightforward and readily available ingredients — water, tea leaves and a tinge of milk to add that sass. If these tea leaves are from Munnar…