“Ek cup chai toh banta hai.”
Said every Indian ever—before a heart-to-heart, a meltdown, or a thunderstorm.
And on Navratri Day 7, as we honour the fierce and protective Kaalratri Mata, I found myself drawn not just to prayer and incense, but to something more personal, more grounding—my tea-making ritual. Not the throw-in-a-bag, add-hot-water version, but the real deal. The kind you gently nudge into becoming perfect. With care, with stories, and yes, sometimes a kitchen disaster or two.
Let me take you on a little journey. One with chai stains, childhood memories, and a brush with the divine feminine.
🌼 Navratri Day 7: The Fierce, the Fearless, and the Flavorful
Navratri is a festival that feels like a song—each day a different note, each goddess a different verse. Day 7 is ruled by Kaalratri, the seventh form of Durga. She's intense. She's bold. She's the storm after silence.
Legend says that Kaalratri destroyed the demons who dared threaten the heavens. She rides a donkey (which, let’s admit, adds an unexpected charm to her otherwise fiery persona), has unkempt hair, and her third eye blazes like the sun.
Basically, she’s the OG disrupter.
And somehow, her energy reminds me of tea.
Yes, tea.
You see, chai isn’t gentle like a floral tisane. It’s unapologetic. It boils, bubbles, spills over when ignored. It stains countertops and burns tongues. But it also heals, brings people together, and awakens you from within.
Just like Kaalratri.
🌅 Morning Chaos, Mild Existentialism, and the Need for Chai
That morning, I woke up to the ting-ting of the temple bell, the faint smell of agarbatti, and Mom already bustling in the kitchen.
“Uth gayi? Bohot ho gaya Navratri ka detox. Ab ek kadak chai bana,” she said without even looking up. I was still rubbing sleep out of my eyes, hair looking like it had survived a mild cyclone. Clearly, the goddess wasn’t the only one exuding fierce energy that day.
I nodded. Detox plans could wait. Today called for proper chai.
My inner monologue kicked in:
“Okay Ankita. You’ve got this. You’ve made presentations at 2 AM, written SEO blog posts with 103 keywords, managed crisis calls. You can make tea.”
But tea, my dear reader, is no less than a science and an art form rolled into one.
🔍 My Tea Origin Story (Every Heroine Has One)
Like many Indians, my love affair with chai began early.
At first, I was only allowed “doodh-chai” — more milk, less tea, a generous dose of sugar. It felt grown-up, sitting next to my father during rainy evenings, pretending to enjoy the bitter-sweet concoction while watching Doordarshan.
Then came hostel life. 6 AM classes, 3 AM assignments, and chai became less of a choice and more of a lifeline. I experimented. Sometimes with Elaichi Tea. Sometimes “Cutting” like we get in Mumbai. Once, in a moment of sleep-deprived creativity, I added Nutella. (Do not recommend.)
Eventually, I learned that making good tea was like writing—every cup needed a clear purpose, a bit of flair, and the courage to boil over, just enough to be memorable.
🍵 The Alchemy of Making Chai
Let me break it down for you in a way that even someone who’s never touched a kettle can follow. Because tea, much like faith, should be accessible.
🧺 Ingredients (For Two Cups of Pure Comfort)
1 cup water
1 cup milk (or almond/oat milk, if you're walking the vegan runway)
1.5 tsp tea leaves (Wagh Bakri for the win, but any good loose-leaf will do)
1–2 tsp sugar (depending on how dramatic your day is)
Spices for soul:
2 green cardamoms, crushed
½ inch ginger, grated
1 clove (optional, but makes you feel royal)
If you’re observing fasts during Navratri, replace sugar with jaggery or skip it entirely. Chai doesn’t judge.
🔥 The Process: Brewing Like a Goddess
Step 1: Heat the water with intention
Start with water in a saucepan. Add your spices. As the water simmers, so does your mood. Watch the bubbles rise slowly. Take a deep breath. This is meditative. This is foreplay—for your taste buds.
Step 2: Add the tea leaves
Let them float, sink, swirl. These little flecks of magic are the real MVPs. Give them a couple of minutes to bloom.
Step 3: Introduce the milk
Gently pour in the milk. Don’t dump it like a broken relationship. Be kind. Stir. Let the mixture come together. This is the part where flavors get cozy.
Step 4: Sweeten the story
Add sugar. Or don’t. But do stir with love. Remember, you’re not just making tea. You’re crafting a warm hug in a cup.
Step 5: The rise and the catch
Let it rise. And by rise, I mean the channi test. If you don’t watch it, it will rise like a drama queen and spill over. Stand there. Be alert. Be the protector of your stove.
Step 6: Strain and serve
Use a simple steel strainer (channi) and pour it into cups. Let the aroma hit you. That’s it. You’ve made chai.
🎭 Chai, Chaos & Kaalratri: The Unexpected Parallel
You know what’s poetic?
On a day that honors Kaalratri, the fierce destroyer of ignorance, I found peace in the chaos of my own morning.
Kaalratri isn't just about rage and destruction. She represents letting go—of fear, of hesitation, of what no longer serves us. That includes self-doubt, toxic habits, and yes, bad tea.
As I sipped the chai I had just made—strong, spicy, slightly too sweet—I felt like I had performed my own little ritual. A modern-day puja. Not with chants and flowers, but with cinnamon, milk, and patience.
And isn't that what Navratri is about?
Reclaiming power, in your own way.
For some, it’s fasting and bhajans.
For others, like me, it’s holding a warm cup of chai, letting it dissolve the clutter in your head.
📝 What I’ve Learned (From Both Chai and Kaalratri)
Intensity is beautiful: Both tea and Kaalratri remind us that intensity, when channelled right, is not destructive but transformative.
Watchfulness is key: One inattentive second, and chai will overflow. So will life. Stay present.
Patience tastes better: Rushed chai is like a half-written poem. Wait for the flavors to unfold.
Simple rituals bring divine peace: Lighting a diya, making tea, washing the channi—these acts ground you more than any luxury.
☕ Chai Styles You Can Try This Navratri (Based on Your Mood)
1. Masala Chai – For the fearless
A mix of spices: cinnamon, cardamom, clove, ginger, and black pepper. This one kicks like a Bollywood villain and hugs like your dadi.
2. Tulsi Chai – For the spiritual soul
Add fresh tulsi leaves while boiling. Perfect for Navratri fasts and soothing the mind.
3. Jaggery Chai – For the earthy minimalist
Use jaggery instead of sugar. Rich, rustic, and full of old-world charm.
4. Saffron Almond Chai – For the indulgent diva
A pinch of saffron and crushed almonds. Drink it wearing silk (or at least pretend you are).
5. Kahwa (Kashmiri Chai) – For the poetic heart
A light green tea with saffron, cinnamon, and almonds. No milk. Perfect for late Navratri evenings.
🪔 My Final Sip
As the sun dipped and the diya flickered by my window, I sat with my second cup of chai and felt something shift. Maybe it was the caffeine. Maybe it was Kaalratri’s energy. Or maybe, it was just the comfort of a ritual well-performed.
I didn’t need validation. Or perfection.
Just the right amount of cardamom.
So this Navratri, while you fast or feast, pray or pause—make tea.
Make it with full presence. Offer the first sip to your soul.
Let Kaalratri’s fire stir your spirit.
Let the chai calm it back down.
Because life, like tea, is all about balance.
The strong and the sweet.
The boil and the still.
The chaos and the calm.
And remember—if your tea turns out too strong, too sweet, or too watery… congratulations.
You’ve made authentic Indian chai.
Even Kaalratri would be proud.