I have an old, slightly chipped mug that I
bought maybe ten or so years ago for less than a hundred rupees. It was on
sale. It has a picture of a steaming glass of back coffee in it and the legend ‘café’.
I, of course, prefer to drink tea in it. My tea is as ordinary as the mug in
which I drink it. Its not green, lean or mean. Its just ordinary tea boiled
with milk and sugar. It suits me. The mug I mean. And the tea.
One day while I was out for lunch, I
ordered a cup of black tea with a slice of lime. I don’t like the way tea is
made with bags in lukewarm water with some indifferent milk thrown in at the
last moment. So, I specified – really hot water only please! And they obliged.
Served in the cutest little teapot nestled over a cup, was my tea. I loved that
little teapot. I asked them where I could get one like that. Many months later
I happened upon something similar but far more delicate – in Mysore. So I got two
of them and came home happy.
Much like many of my impulse buys, this too
stayed in my crockery cabinet because it was too ‘nice’. I buy pretty things
and then never dare to use it. I suspect I got this characteristic genetically
since my mother has a ton of stuff she got for the house in Kerala thirty years
ago which is now in bad shape; much like the house itself which stands forlorn
in its neglect. I decided today that I was going to change. I didn’t need so
much stuff. I would follow the Japanese de-cluttering queen’s example and keep
only things that would ‘spark joy’. So I pulled out my teapot-cup and measured
some organic stuff flavoured with ginger into my teapot which was first rinsed
with warm water. I take pictures of the little pot much to my daughter’s
amusement and silent mumblings of “Its about time Amma”. I sit down and pour
myself a cup and try to look serene for that is not my natural look I assure
you.
I take one sip and its all wrong. The
organic whatchamacallit was bitter or rather it left a bitter aftertaste. The
cup while pretty, did not have the right balance so it was not easy to drink
out of it. I felt no joy. Back went the teapot-cup in its nook in the cabinet.
I apologized to my chipped cup and had my tea with a simple breakfast – in that
very cup.
So what did I learn today? I didn’t need
something fancy to drink in. Having a pretty thing doesn’t necessarily spark
joy. I like chipped cups that feel right in my hands – that warm me up on
chilly mornings – that let me treat them any which way I want depending on my
mood and continue to be there for me because they know how much I love them.
Always the new attracts us and promises us
that it will make us happy. For a fleeting moment, we believe that in
possessing it, we will have something we have not had before. The truth is that
you already have everything that you need to be content (reasonably so at
least). Adding mere things will not change anything. If you cannot be happy
with what you have, the chances are that you will not be happy with anything
more either. So I shall stick to my chipped mug of happiness – what’s your chipped
mug trying to tell you today?
