Blog 21 July 2016 Nicky P.

The two leaves and a bud

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A bright sunny and beautiful summer morning. A gentle touch of the dew drops and a mild awakening by the tranquil breeze and I opened my eyes. Here I was, a tiny little bud snug between two delicate leaves fresh. Born in poetic surroundings, surrounded by lush green tea plants, it was almost surreal to see my brethren blossom around us at the same time. We were the crowning glory of the tea plants. The much coveted ‘two leaves and a bud’ just at the verge of blossoming. There were murmurs all around that the day of the plucking was arriving. The excitement was palpable. Will the gentle loving hands of the pluckers reach us? Will we be the chosen ones to make the magic potion of the most delicious teas? Or we will just grow randomly, haphazardly and later be trimmed down for perfection. I preferred the former.

 The day finally arrived. I heard beautiful voices of the tea pluckers humming the most melodious folk songs heading towards us. They walked around with utmost precision and ease, their experienced hands gently caressing the bushes as they passed by. My turn, my turn! I stood tall, taller than my peers. The voices in our heads were getting louder. We could barely wait for the tea pluckers to pass by us, reach out to us and get us. A little nudge by the wind was all that was needed to get there.

 We had heard stories of how the best of the best leaves were picked by the tea pluckers to make various kinds of teas. What would i be? Black, green or white? I knew that there is no better season for tea - the month of May. The season of the first flush which lasts from March to April was just over and the first crop of leaves was way into the production line or if lucky enough, possibly being consumed as a luscious tea. It was the time for the second flush. We were the second generation of tea leaves for the season. If only, more evolved, more succulent and  made more for the lighter milder teas.

                We had heard stories of how the best of the best leaves were picked by the tea pluckers to make various kinds of teas. What would i be? Black, green or white? I knew that there is no better season for tea - the month of May. The season of the first flush which lasts from March to April was just over and the first crop of leaves was way into the production line or if lucky enough, possibly being consumed as a luscious tea. It was the time for the second flush. We were the second generation of tea leaves for the season. If only, more evolved, more succulent and  made more for the lighter milder teas.

                My day dreaming suddenly came to an end as i felt the warm hands of the tea plucker reach me. Here I was, finally plucked and gently tossed in the basket with plenty of my kind. We were being transported to the land of transformation. The melodious folk song continued untiringly, till the end of the day. We were happily lugged around in the basket till we reached our destination.  

                I really did not want to be the regular variety, I wanted to be special. I prayed harder. The transformation had begun. We were all being transformed into the most superior green teas. I was all smiles and cheered by the thought. I always believed that the greens were the best. We were the teas in the most natural form packed with all the goodness which nature has endowed us with. Our aroma was naturally enhanced and the colour the most natural best. We were the ones loaded with all the best of antioxidants and nutrients beneficial for both mankind and ,well, the rest. I couldn't be happier. My wish fulfilled.

                We had taken the final form, the chosen incarnation of the greens and now were just about so close to our penultimate journey. We were being transported.

  An exquisite tea shop snug at the corner of the boulevard. The place was abuzz with energy. There were people all around busy chatting, listening, reading et al. Oh-so different from the quiet and still of the gardens. I believe we carry with us the calmness from there, the quiet and still. No wonder drinking pure tea leaves you calm and refreshed at the same time.

  My time had come. The leaves chosen and the water freshly boiled. I was all set to be steeped. The hot water on us, the chosen ones, almost set us free. We let go of all that we carried with us - the love, the goodness, the aroma, the colour and the ultimate flavour. We made the perfect cup of tea. Some would call it the ‘agony of leaves’, for me it was sheer ecstasy!

 Author - Nicky P.

I am an avid traveller, writer, dreamer and a drink connoisseur - my favourite being tea! I enjoy writing with my favourite cuppa. Writing sets me free. It helps me unravel various facets of new subjects and deep dive into a new realms of truth, knowledge and beyond. What better to write about the things you love! :)

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Last modified on 25 October 2016