Uno

I've been here a month. And I'm still waiting to feel that the move was worth it. Not really the best place to be in - literally and figuratively!

But anyway, here are some things that I've had to learn in the past month.

1. If you have banana shake out of a glass and leave it unwashed for some time, it will be all the more difficult to wash it later. Banana tends to stick to the walls of the glass.  It is best to wash it there and then! (You're probably wondering what this has to do with my move to the US - I had never washed dishes before I got here - yeah, yeah, I'm spoilt. Was, rather.)

2. If you think I made a punctuation error up there, then let it be known to you that the correct American way to do this is to put the comma or period (no, not full stop) inside the parantheses (bracket? what's that?). 

If you're wondering why I didn't do the same thing in the previous sentence, it's because the rule doesn't apply when only part of the sentence is in "parantheses". And you thought I'd messed up! :P

3. The East coast is supposed to be where the cold, money-minded, fake-smile American lives (north-eastern coast, specifically). Now there are a whole lot of other places where I could have ended up. But no, no, no, there is no other way my luck would have it. I had to end up in Boston  - one of the most expensive and coldest cities of America (again both literally and metaphorically).

4. Punjabi music (or any other kind, for that matter) has the potential to save lives, lift spirits and perform other miracles. There is no denying this fact. There never will be.

This is where I truncate the list for now. 

I have to go do the dishes. 

Cupp-aaah!

So. Life has taken a huge turn and here I am, in "the homeland of opportunity" as a friend calls this country. A lot of things have changed - I now cook (albeit pathetically, but I'm alive, aren't I?), I now do my own laundry (yes, yes, I was a spolit brat until not so long ago) and I now know how to control my anger just a wee bit (didn't see that one coming, did you? Well, neither did I!)

But there is one thing that has remained constant. Just one. My morning cup of chai (Indian tea, for the uninitiated.)

Recently, my love for it has only increased manifold, probably because I realise its value in my daily scheme of things like I never have before. Every morning, after I have switched off the oh-so-annoying alarm, I drag myself away from the luxury of my rickety bed (and queen-size comforter, may I add) to my not-so-cosy kitchen. My only thoughts during that short walk are on how to survive till the time I will take the first sip. And then I shift focus to getting it right, which, I may add, is an incredibly difficult feat on these American stoves (there's no flame on mine, it's the electric thing, so you can't really see how high you've turned it up till you start feeling hot after 5 minutes even though you're standing ten feet away.) So I let the water boil for approximately three minutes (during which time I try to stay awake) and then add the tea leaves.

Now this is the most important part. At the risk of looking insane to an observer, I stand and stare at the pot and watch the leaves give away their colour, turning the water a beautiful sunset (or sunrise - only that I'm too lazy to have ever seen one!) golden. The colour has to be just right and if it isn't, then I instantly know that it's going to be one of those days when things just don't go my way! Adding the milk is the easy bit though adding the sugar is my favourite bit (no, for the hundredth time, I am NOT going to get diabetes). You have to add just enough for you to be able to taste it, but not too much or else it will numb the aroma and the taste of the tea leaves. Strain it out, stir it. And you have the perfect way to start your day!

Cautionary note however - do not gulp it down. If you don't have the time to enjoy it, don't make it. It's a useless exercise - to make something so exotic (and yet easy) and not to be able to sip it, taste it, devour it, bit by bit.