Cutting Chai?
I t was a sweaty June afternoon in Jaipur, I was cooking chapatis and hating it as much as any other woman would - given the heat coupled with the fumes from the kitchen. The mobile rang and I could not resist taking a look at the number. It was my friend from Mumbai and I suddenly felt guilty about not meeting her before returning from my two-week trip to the city. 'Emm... it was the hectic training schedule. I told you, didn't I? Ah... you would know how offices are, and how maddening is working for a small-city person in such a big, bad city like Mumbai.' I had nearly thought out my lines by the time I answered. But she wasn't really into it. 'Do you know what cutting chai means?' 'Yes, why!' (Cutting chai from Mumbai to Jaipur, why on earth?) 'Does your mom know?' 'I don't know...' (It was like people asking you, does your mom know you drink?) 'How many people in Jaipur would know?' 'I am sure, quite a few.' (And i