What would you like to do?
Stories Brewed with Chai
Mikki leans forward, resting an elbow on the counter as the steam from the tandoor curls around him. His eyes seem to hold galaxies of stories, and his smile is one of quiet confidence, the kind only someone who has brewed chai for lifetimes can carry.
“Arre, yaar, you’ve made the right choice. Chai?
It’s not just a drink—it’s an experience, a story that unfolds sip by sip. Every masala, every swirl of steam carries a memory, a meaning, a secret waiting to be told.
But tell me, why have you come? Are you just curious, or is there a question only the chai can answer for you?”
A Tale of the Gods
Mikki chuckles, a deep, knowing laugh, and leans back slightly, wiping his hands on a faded cloth.
“Ah, the gods. Always quarreling, always dramatic. You think humans are complicated? Wait till you hear about them.”
He gestures to the steaming kettle beside him, as though it’s a witness to the story.
“It happened long ago, when the universe was still young. The gods gathered to create something extraordinary, a drink worthy of the divine. But, yaar, as gods often do, they couldn’t agree. Vishnu wanted sweetness, a perfect elaichi. Agni demanded fire—ginger, sharp and bold. And Shiva? He insisted on something earthy and grounding, like cinnamon. The debate raged on and on, and every spice brought its own chaos.”
Mikki pauses, tapping the side of the kettle.
“Finally, Brahma, the creator, stepped in. ‘Enough!’ he said, and with a flick of his hand, he brewed the first chai—a balance of every flavor, a cosmic harmony. The gods sipped it, and for once, there was silence. Peace. Even the universe itself seemed to hum in tune with that first brew.
And this dhaba? It’s a tribute to that moment. A place where balance and harmony live in every cup.
Maybe that’s why it finds people when they need it most.”
Ask for the Secret Chai Recipe
Mikki laughs, the kind of laugh that makes you feel like you’ve just asked for the keys to the universe.
“Ah, the secret recipe. You’re not the first one to ask, yaar, and you won’t be the last. But let me tell you something—chai is not just a mix of spices. It’s an art, a feeling, a rhythm.”
Mikki picks up a jar of cardamom, rolling it between his fingers as though it holds the secrets of the cosmos.
“Yes, there’s cardamom for sweetness, ginger for fire, cinnamon for warmth, and a pinch of clove to bring it all together. The balance is everything. Too much of one, and you’ve lost the magic. But the true art of chai is in letting the flavors dance and blend, not rushing it. That’s why machines can’t brew a proper chai, and why this old kettle is still my best friend.”
He places the jar down and looks at you with a twinkle in his eye.
“But alright, you’ve come this far, so let me teach you how to make a traditional chai the way the gods wanted it. With Cosmo Chai, it’s simple—because I’ve already done the hard part for you. Here’s what you do:
- Take 1 teaspoon of Cosmo Chai masala mix and 1 teaspoon of black tea.
- Add them to 1 cup of water and let it cook gently.
- Add cosmic milk—whatever milk you like, but let it blend.
- Finally, add 1 teaspoon of sugar—because the gods themselves insisted on sweetness.
That’s it. Slow, steady, and from the heart. That’s how you make a real chai.
Mikki chuckles, shaking his head with a playful glint in his eyes.
“A duel? Arre, yaar, chai isn’t a competition—it’s an art, a feeling, a connection. You don’t win or lose with chai; you just let it brew, slow and steady, like life.”
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