A Cup of Chai and Other Stories
Edited by Meenakshi
Varma, Unisun, 2007,
pp 271, Rs 225
For none of the twelve authors in A Cup of Chai, fiction is the bread-winner. To get their cup of chai they have to look elsewhere: tea-processing, sports, brand management, the steel-frame. So these short stories have been written either as a hobby or as a pressure valve to make themselves feel balanced again. 
Funnily enough, when something is done because one wants to do it, the result turns out to be satisfactory. So it is with these authors. Some deal with the never-ending storms in bourgeois tea-cups, a few on the pains of growing up (‘Remarks’, ‘Purnima’). A Cup of Chai has variety in action, mood and communicative style. We cannot ask for more from a random selection of contemporary writing in English by Indians.
Veterans and new comers jostle with each other to paint realistic slices of humdrum life. Sheila Nayumpalli Barua is a retired teacher (and a grandmother too) who began writing only three years ago. Yet she can give us expertly a neat O’Henry-esque end, her pen analysing what constitutes alone-ness in this world full of people and noise. Indeed, most of the stories hover around this theme, usually in terms of silent gloom (‘The Messenger’, ‘The Fifty-Year Itch), a feeling of something gnawing away at the vitals. The very best of this kind comes from Roli Bhushan-Malhotra who has given the title-story for the collection. 
Empty nest
The loneliness of the widow(er) has become acute in our times with the dispersal of the family unit. The flat system in mega-cities has pigeon-holed hapless ladies who are isolated further when the younger women also go away to work. The very best of sons and daughters-in-law are yet no companions to the ageing ladies who have nothing to hold on to except their memories. Ms Bhushan-Malhotra’s pen expertly licks in all this and more in the remembrance of things past and present by Akanksha’s mother-in-law. Can there be poetry in humdrum domesticity? Yes, just read the following:
“I believe tea is the beverage of the soul.
It lends itself to remembrances— old and new. With tea, one can forget old follies and forge new bonds.
We old women had special recipes for brewing tea, which we would exchange at our kirtan sessions along with the latest gossip. Mrs Saha really liked black tea, with a slice of lemon and lots of sugar. Anu had perfected the art of pleasing Mrs Saha with her own special blend, a trick which earned her twenty rupees each time Mrs Saha came visiting. Mrs Sharma prepared delicious elaichi chai, and being the adventurer of our group, had once prepared cinnamon chai, which was an instant hit.”
Before I withdraw to brew my special tulsi-hibiscus tea, I must add that there are some brief bubbles of courage in A Cup of Chai when wives strike back at adulterous or drunkard husbands. Altogether a masterly brew of contemporary experiences.