The story of Darjeeling tea

Plucking the tea leaves is the first step in a long journey before the tea makes it to our cups

Two leaves and a bud. That’s what Hariram Choudhary, manager, Rohini Tea Estate, reminds me to look for. I am standing on a hill incline, with rows of green bushes stretching to infinity, and trying to understand how to pluck tea leaves. This is the first step in a long journey before the tea makes it to our cups.

My quest is to know about life in a tea garden and the people who sustain this industry against several odds. It is November-end, and I have made it just in time, before the plucking season ends.

After landing at Bagdogra airport in north Bengal, I sit for a brainstorming session with Rishi Saria, director of the estate, which is part of the region that produces the world-famous Darjeeling tea.

The dense bushes, literally, form a ‘table’ — the surface. Workers around me, mostly women, have sharp reflexes. Their hands move rapidly, as they shift along the ‘rows’. To my untrained eyes, spotting the right leaves and buds take time but Choudhary is helping me out. Soon, I am better at it, but to become perfect, I understand, the task needs to be done repeatedly.

Saraswati Khawas, standing in a row closeby, has been a tea plucker for about one year. She studied till eighth standard and lives at the nearby Kothi Dara village. Her husband works in Pune, but has come home now. Like others, she has to pluck a certain quantity in a day. The task varies on the basis of the seasons, and which part of the garden she is working in. Workers get a daily pay of Rs 232, and more per kilo if they pick above the target.

The estate is spread over 400 hectares, of which 140 hectares has been planted under tea. On an average, it produces one lakh kg of tea annually.

There’s a bit of Jane Austen’s novels and R K Narayan’s ‘Malgudi Days’ in this scenic region. I am staying at the garden’s 100-plus-year-old bungalow. It reminds me of English houses as depicted in the classics. The narrow toy train tracks I had seen in the morning in Siliguri, uphill along another road, are relics of a bygone era. The ground floor of the bungalow is exposed partly to sunlight. Bees, from a hole in the wooden ceiling, buzz around, then turn silent and disappear when the sunbeams shift away from the bungalow.

After lunch at the bungalow, I am at the factory for a briefing. Sita Oraon is busy spreading freshly plucked leaves that have arrived. She has studied till fifth standard. Depending on the quality of the leaf, the layer is kept thick or thin, she tells me. She lives in Jabarhat, one of the ‘labour lines’. There is always something being done in the factory during working hours.

At five, it starts to get dark. On our way back to the bungalow, Choudhary and I visit Marchebong. This settlement has 45 houses, with people mostly working in the garden. I meet Pradip and Pramila Mangar, married for 22 years. Pradip has been to Bengaluru just to see the city. Many in the hills work in the southern states, as jobs are hard to come by in this part of the country. Some grow vegetables, and also rear goats for an additional income. “There was much to be unhappy about in the past, during my father’s time,” says Pradip. Dussehra is the most important festival followed by Diwali, he adds, when I ask him about happiness and festivities.

We walk back to the bungalow. Up on the hills is the town of Kurseong glittering in the dark. It is also famous for white orchids.

On the factory floor

It’s a breezy morning with bright sunshine. I am at the factory, and Bappa Talapatra, factory manager, explains to me the stages the tea leaves go through before they arrive at the factory. “The tea gardens are divided into divisions with sections,” Talapatra tells me. There’s a plucking cycle for each portion of the garden. After they are brought to the factory, leaves are spread out on long troughs and left to wither, with air being pumped through the mesh from below. This takes 14 to 16 hours. After this, there are several steps, usually on the second day — tossing leaves in a drum or with hands (for special or smaller quantities), resting, and reducing moisture. The leaves acquire flavour. This is followed by panning in machines, cooling, rolling and shaping, drying in a cabinet dryer, and then sorting. The final stage involves tasting and grading tea under ‘leaf’, ‘broken’ and ‘fanning’ categories. The quality decides pricing.

The process this batch of leaves underwent results in black tea, which is the majority of their output, prized for its flavour and aroma. How tea leaves are processed decides what tea variety they become. White tea is left to dry in natural air for a long period while green tea involves steaming and drying. “We also make special handmade teas,” says Talapatra.

During the day, I visit another part of the garden. Shanu Chettri is plucking leaves. Shanu has been at this work for nearly 15 years. “I was born here. My father also worked as a staff in this garden,” she tells me. The work gets difficult during the rainy season, she points out.

Tea is not only their source of livelihood but also a beverage close to their hearts. ‘Maya lagta hai (We are emotionally attached to it),” a garden worker says. Some drink twice a day, some by the hour! But they have salt tea, noon cha as they call it. “Salt tea has become a habit,” another worker pitches in.

Salt tea, however, has a dark side. The practice was introduced by the British in tea gardens of the north-east to combat dehydration. The Internet is brimming with reports of the ill-effects of this colonial-era habit, which has led to hypertension, heart ailments, and high maternal deaths.

At the bungalow, I am treated like an extended family member of the Choudhary. The dinner is served around 8.30 pm, as people in gardens are early risers. Behind the bungalow I discover a temple, a stream, and a samadhi dedicated to a World War II veteran. A ‘rudraksh’ (stone fruit) tree stands on the lawn. I had never seen a rudraksh tree before. Choudhary helped me find a few seeds as mementos.

At the dining table, I learn that Choudhary is from Rajasthan and lives here with his wife and son. “My uncle has been working as a director in another garden for 52 years. When I was looking for a job after graduation, my uncle asked me to come over. I come from a farmers’ family so I had some idea of plants before joining the tea industry,” he said. As a manager, his responsibility is to see that everything flows smoothly, and keep targets in mind, which is tied to the plucking seasons, known as flushes.

The first flush spans from February to mid-May — the brewed tea is yellowish and has a lingering flavour, and is considered the most superior crop. Tea plucked during the second flush, mid-May to July-end, has a well-rounded taste. The rain flush tea is low on flavour. The autumn flush produces quality tea but the yield is lower. The tea bushes get to ‘rest’ in between the flushes.

Tea garden talk

Around 6.30 am, Choudhary accompanies me to the Paila Dura settlement. People are starting their day. The school-going children are waiting for the carpool.

Sanju Bomzan is a tea plucker. Her daughter studies in seventh standard, and son in the second. Her husband works at Kurseong, uphill. As I chat, a few other residents come over and listen. I gather that more women work as pluckers than men here.

Kailash and Rubina Bomzon have two daughters and a son who attend school. Anamika, the eldest, tells me she wants to be an airhostess. “We can fly to other places,” she explains.

Ramchandra Bomzan is a staff supervisor. He tells me 42 people from this village work in the gardens. While he had studied till seventh standard, his three sons have all completed the 12th. One son works in Dubai as a waiter. Another works in a reputed hotel nearby. Ramchandra’s father and mother had also worked in the plantation. “The kids know good English,” he says.

Now I am back at the factory to understand how leaves become the final product.

At the tasting stage

I leave for the estate’s Siliguri office and meet Saria and Buddha Dev Acharya, to learn about an important stage — tea tasting. “All tea should taste pleasant,” Acharya says. I see 2.5 gm of tea samples steeping in 110 ml of warm water. This provides the ‘liquor’. I can see different shades. I also learn from Saria about CTC (crush, tear, curl) tea, and how the manufacturing differs from what I saw at his tea estate.

I taste tea from different cups, to get a very preliminary idea of a vital process perfected over a long period. Acharya, sometimes, tastes as many as 200 samples daily, he says. He has been tasting tea for 25 years. “Our grandfather started the tea business with Gopaldhara tea estate in 1955. Rohini’s was our last acquisition, in 2000,” says Saria, who studied engineering and computer science in Bengaluru, and worked as a software professional before joining the family’s tea business. The overall trade has remained unchanged for years, but new challenges have emerged.

New challenges

I also visit the town centre, 40 km uphill from the tea estate. A convention of the All India Plantation Workers’ Federation is slated here. Saman Pathak, working president, Darjeeling District Cha Kaman Mazdoor Union, says four or five of the 87 tea gardens in Darjeeling are ‘abandoned’. About 60,000 permanent workers, and 25,000 casual workers are employed in the gardens.

Some benefits are now being curtailed. The union’s demand is to implement a minimum wage structure in keeping with the international standards, he says. The state government has introduced a housing scheme for workers, but they are keen on having the land rights.

At the gardens, I learn that ration allowance, a bonus of 20 per cent on annual earnings, umbrellas and footwear for plucking, maternity benefits, and job guarantee are given to workers.

Regional politics has impacted the tea industry, a strike of over 100 days in 2017, in particular, I gather.

Back in Kolkata, I meet Darjeeling Tea Association (DTA) chairman B K Saria. The competition from Nepal is a major concern for him. “The exports of Darjeeling tea add up to 3 million kg in a year,” says Sandeep Mukherjee, principal advisor, DTA.

Now, every time I sip tea, I am reminded of the challenges of planters, of workers and managers.

Some of the processes involved in tea making:

1. Withering: The leaves are spread on troughs in the factory and dried with air pumped from below for 14-16 hours.

2. Panning: They are tossed and left to rest before being exposed to heat on the second day.

3. Rolling: The leaves are rolled and shaped into wrinkled strips with the help of machines.

4. Drying: The batch is then slid into a cabinet dryer to remove any remaining moisture.

5. Sorting: For smaller batches, unwanted parts of the plants are removed by hand.

6. Tasting: Tea liquor (tea leaves brewed in hot water) is sampled to assess the quality and determine pricing