The tea I had today was not great at all. I wasn't sure whether it was because of the sugar or the lack of enough milk. Maybe he used different tea leaves today. I didn't have the courage to ask the shopkeeper—who asks such a question for something that costs just 20 rupees? Though 20 rupees does mean something, asking him felt unnecessary. He has been serving me tea for months, and questioning him would make him feel bad, which I didn't want.
I looked around and saw many people drinking the same tea from the same cups, from the same shopkeeper, and I wondered if they felt the same as I did. My curiosity was killing me. I wanted to ask someone, "Does the tea taste different today?" But they were all in groups, and asking something like that in front of so many people felt like a bad idea. Still, my mind had felt something peculiar, and I wanted to know why the tea tasted different—or maybe I was just overreacting.
I finished my tea, even though it felt different from other days. After paying, the shopkeeper smiled, as he always does, and asked if I needed something to eat. I politely said no, since I had already had my lunch. Before leaving, I gathered the confidence to ask him why the tea tasted different today. I turned back to speak, but the group of friends stood beside him again, ordering their tea and snacks. They were smiling, cracking jokes, laughing together. They took their orders and left, and the shopkeeper looked at me and asked, "What do you need?"
I said calmly, "The tea was good today." He smiled, and so did I.
You might think I got afraid of the situation, but no—I realised something else. It wasn't the tea I was missing, nor the flavour. The tea was exactly the same as always. I was missing the company—the people, the friend who used to have tea with me. I had never really had tea alone there. We always had it together.
Tea is not just a drink. It is a story, a conversation, a connection. Since I had no one with me today, I thought there was something wrong with the tea. But the flaw was not in the tea. The flaw was in my eyes.
So I walked away knowing one thing: company matters. Your friends make everything look extraordinary. And I told myself, "I'll let them know how much they matter the next time I meet them."