My cup of tea!

I sit in my abode, thoughts I don’t want, starts interfering my serenity, my whole being screams for TEA. Magically, I hear the clouds pushing away. Well if it doesn’t Iam sure that it will take beautiful colors and forms by the time I finish my tea. This is how hopelessly hopefull I get just by thinking of preparing tea. There will be a new kind of energy running along my veins as soon as I start searching for my tea vessel. I like the way milk gets dispersed in the water. Waves, dont know where to go but happy however they are going or maybe with no feelings. The milk looks more transparent and water looks murkier. With a smile, I add a teaspoon of tea powder. Blackish brown nodules will be jumping up and down and swirling around as I turn them with a spoon and the swirling tea nodules leave their color to the milk like a smoke from a chimney to the milky sky. The sight makes me little giddy and little tranzed out. By the time I add sugar, I get all aroused because within minutes I would be savouring it, sitting and admiring even the dull blighted leaves.I dont know why I feel joyous when I strech my neck up, put my tongue forward, lift my hand with a spoon of tea a little above my face so that a drop of tea falls right on my tongue and spreads bestowing sweet bitter tea taste all over my tongue.Sexy sensation! I get excited just to wait for tea to boil. I pour that tea in my favourite cup (having my favourite cup and the feel of the cup is also a part of the therapy), strain the tea and throw the vessel, spoon and the strainer in the sink and head straight to my favourite seat and sip it.
I like Georgette Heyer more with a cuppa tea. In fact all the books. But I didn’t like tea much when I was reading Norwegian wood, as it tasted a little salty.