TEA BY THE ROAD IN INDIA: A REFLEXION ON SOCIO-ECONOMIC ANTHROPOLOGY

  

TEA BY THE ROAD IN INDIA: A REFLEXION ON SOCIO-ECONOMIC ANTHROPOLOGY

Last month I was in India. From Patna We went to Ara, a small district town, by car. The distance by road is about 60 km; part of the road is in a very bad state with big pot holes.  My driver said it would take about two hours provided there were no problems at Koilwar Bridge. The double-decker bridge on the river Sone is just over a kilometer long. This

magnificent, rickety bridge was built in 1868 and is still a vital link for the National highway and Indian Railway. It frequently gets clogged by the shear density of the traffic and not infrequently by the motorcades of a politician or a senior bureaucrat.  When we reached there, traffic was at a standstill. The driver found out that we would have to wait for about an hour. “Not bad” he appended cheerfully.

We decided to have tea from the roadside tea stall nearby. Not that I really needed a cup of tea but just felt the nostalgia of having garam chai (hot tea) from a roadside café. The tea is made here in a very large pan containing a mixture of milk, water, tea granules and sugar. After the first boil it is left

constantly simmering on a coal fire.  It used to be served in kiln fired earthen tumblers called kulhar or chukkar.  The pot imparted a sort of smoky, earthy test to the tea.

 Today, instead of chukkars the driver brought some plastic cups. He asked me to hold one while he poured the tea from a jug. As more of tea poured in the cup, it got progressively heavier and I had to grip it with more force to prevent it from slipping through my fingers. The plastic cup started collapsing under the squeeze of my fingers and thumb.  And suddenly the hot milky tea almost spilled over. I had to let it slip through to avoid burning my hand.  It fell on the ground with a thump.

I felt irritated and ashamed at the same time. The driver poured another cup, this time holding the cup himself and gave it to me. I held it gingerly, finely tuning the squeeze force of my fingers, just enough to counteract the pull of gravity and a bit less than the force required to collapse the thin wall of the plastic cup. It was a difficult task; I did not enjoy the tea that much. Not the same taste.

Whoever initially decided to serve boiling hot tea in a flimsy, incredibly thin walled plastic cups must have a sadistic temperament. The manufacturer also must be incredibly greedy. I am sure there are health and safety laws in India and the businessman must have agreed to them to get a license!

“Anyway why did we change from the chukkars?”

 “The plastic cup costs much less” said the driver. The whole cottage industry associated with earthenware has died over the last few years for the lack of demand except in a few designer shops and restaurants in large cities.

How did a common, everyday utensil changed into an expensive object of luxury? Answer seems perplexing but is very simple. It is a result of the economics of greed and mass consumerism. The ever onward march of socio-economic progress!