Tea trails, Leila Chatti & Self Care
In this issue, we explore Kurseong on foot and enjoy the slow life, which demands at least three cups of tea.
It was supposed to be a short layover. We were in Kurseong to rest our legs before heading on to visit Darjeeling, it’s famous cousin. The hill town, however, surprised us from the outset. The steep gradient, hairpin bends, deep valleys and a less-than ideal driver made it a more adventurous ride than we had bargained for. A sigh escaped our lips at each turn as the cab landed mere inches from the edge, followed by a silent prayer for us to reach our destination. The anxiety, punctuated ever so often to curse the lack of barriers, as the mist rolled in and made things worse. It was only when our eyes sighted tea, we knew our precarious hour was at an end. We had arrived.
Kurseong, ceded to the British Empire by the king of Sikkim in 1835, is surrounded by tea estates. The hills roll on far and wide, with different nomenclatures – Ambootia, Castleton, Makaibari, Goomtee and more – offering factory and estate tours, Darjeeling brews and in some cases premium stays. At Makaibari, a few villagers and workers have also set up simple homestays, where you can learn about local culture firsthand.
Our stay was perched on a hillock called Giddapahar. If you can shrug off the ‘I love banners’ sprouting up faster than mushrooms in the country, it offers mesmerising views. The town is laid up before you, along with a part of the Castleton estate. A Hanuman temple and a towering rendition of the deity complete the picture. Though crowded, it offers a better vantage point that Eagle’s Crag. Close by is the Netaji museum, which houses articles, letters and artifacts of Subhas Chandra Bose.
The winding roads feel less of an enemy with a local driver. The small hamlet of Bagora offers a short trail through a dense pine forest. While unlikely that the Kanchenjunga will drop its misty cloak, the point is said to offer a view on clear days. There isn’t a long to-do list really, Kurseong is a laidback town, best explored on foot. One of the trails is a walk down Dow Hill, which passes through several British-era boarding schools, forest museum and park. It’s a lonely walk, probably why it’s rife with tales of paranormal sightings.
A little further away from Kurseong is Margaret’s Deck, run by Castleton. It’s a tea lounge, where you are lulled into thinking you are sipping tea on a cloud. So thick is the mist on the outer deck, so breezy the area that you just don’t want to leave. The famed Darjeeling toy train runs parallel to the road, with a stop at Kurseong. It’s a slow ride, harking back to the past. The best bit is to walk the winding roads, letting the mountain air fill the lungs even though the feet grumble.
We did just that for two days. Amid misty mornings, cooler evenings, brief drizzles, early sunsets, we walked alongside trees with the prayers flags fluttering in the wind, spotting white orchids before retiring for a cup of tea – jasmine, peppermint, lemongrass. Maybe the only routine that could get us off coffee. Darjeeling, in retrospect, was all about battling crowds. It’s better to be out and about in Kurseong.
Stays
Allita: Located near Giddapahar, the luxury hotel offers good views and amenities, including dining under a glass canopy built around an old banyan tree. Website : https://www.allitaresorts.com/
Goomtee Retreat: An old-world English bungalow, within the Goomtee tea estate, the property offers heritage stays. A short walk from here is the Mahanadi waterfall. Website: https://kanoriatea.com/goomtee-retreat/
Poetry: Tea by Leila Chatti
Five times a day, I make tea. I do this
because I like the warmth in my hands, like the feeling
of self-directed kindness. I’m not used to it—
warmth and kindness, both—so I create my own
when I can. It’s easy. You just pour
water into a kettle and turn the knob and listen
for the scream. I do this
five times a day. Sometimes, when I’m pleased,
I let out a little sound. A poet noticed this
and it made me feel I might one day
properly be loved. Because no one is here
to love me, I make tea for myself
and leave the radio playing. I must
remind myself I am here, and do so
by noticing myself: my feet are cold
inside my socks, they touch the ground, my stomach
churns, my heart stutters, in my hands I hold
a warmth I make. I come from
a people who pray five times a day
and make tea. I admire the way they do
both. How they drop to the ground
wherever they are. Drop
pine nuts and mint sprigs in a glass.
I think to care for the self
is a kind of prayer. It is a gesture
of devotion toward what is not always beloved
or believed. I do not always believe
in myself, or love myself, I am sure
there are times I am bad or gone
or lying. In another’s mouth, tea often means gossip,
but sometimes means truth. Despite
the trope, in my experience my people do not lie
for pleasure, or when they should,
even when it might be a gesture
of kindness. But they are kind. If you were
to visit, a woman would bring you
a tray of tea. At any time of day.
My people love tea so much
it was once considered a sickness. Their colonizers
tried, as with any joy, to snuff it out. They feared a love
so strong one might sell or kill their other
loves for leaves and sugar. Teaism
sounds like a kind of faith
I’d buy into, a god I wouldn’t fear. I think now I truly believe
I wouldn’t kill anyone for love,
not even myself—most days
I can barely get out of bed. So I make tea.
I stand at the window while I wait.
My feet are cold and the radio plays its little sounds.
I do the small thing I know how to do
to care for myself. I am trying to notice joy,
which means survive. I do this all day, and then the next.
Don’t miss:
George Orwell’s 11 golden rules to make a perfect cup of tea on The Marginalian.
“One strong cup of tea is better than twenty weak ones. All true tea lovers not only like their tea strong, but like it a little stronger with each year that passes.”
Shop
We now have candles in the shop! They are inspired by John Masefield’s Sea Fever and our homage to the sea. Do check them out along with our poetry-inspired notebooks on our Swiggy Minis store.