The dawn had begun to break. We were thirty minutes behind schedule. The december morning was chilly and the fog had not lifted off yet. The air smelt fresh. As I stood over the parapet outside Shenaz’s house, I gazed at the VW Polo parked downstairs. Bright red, she looked very pretty. It had been well kept. I thought about the day ahead. It had been a while since I hit the road. The last time was fun, but felt so long ago.
My thoughts were interrupted by a lovely smell. Shenaz had prepared tea. The first sip tasted excellent. This wasn’t tea. It was chai. I glanced at Shenaz. We raised our glasses high, and together looked downstairs, not at the VW, but at our black motorcycles. Though, they didn’t look pretty, they were pretty bad-ass.
On a foggy, chilly december Bangalore morning, with a glass of chai, we toasted the beginning of the Wild Winter Ride 3.0.
“The difference between perfect tea and the perfect chai, is that the latter is made by someone who has been in love.“