Yesterday after my afternoon siesta I woke up craving for a nice cup of tea. So I dragged the still sleepy body in blue pyjama’s to the kitchen and put a pot of water to boil. Taking cue from most ‘aromatherapy’ products, I dipped 2 cloves into the boiling water.

It was like the Indian version of the American Beauty, I watched the cloves dance in the fuming water.. Little surges of water appeared from the bottom of the pot, creating ripples all over the pot- the cloves. Connected by some strange bond (the brotherhood of cloves? J ), the cloves danced a silent dance. They clung together for a while and then did the tango, side by side, then apart..making their way around the pot and the ripples of hot water till there came such a time when both of them were tired. They fell by each other’s side. There were not alone for too long and soon were lost in a crowd when the tea leaves came in.