It’s Day 6 of Navratri, and my kitchen smells like cardamom, ginger, and devotion. Today is dedicated to Maa Katyayani—the warrior goddess, the embodiment of courage and determination. And what better way to honor her than with a strong, soul-reviving cup of tea? After all, if there’s one thing I believe in (besides maa ke aashirwad), it’s that a well-brewed chai can fix almost anything.
Navratri isn’t just a festival; it’s a journey. Each day is dedicated to a different form of the Goddess, each representing a unique energy. By Day 6, the fasting has settled into a rhythm, the cravings have subsided (mostly), and a strange kind of clarity starts to emerge. It’s almost like my body has learned to adapt—just like how a good chai needs time to let the flavors meld. No rush, no shortcuts.
The Art of Chai: A Battle Worth Fighting
Making chai is an art, a science, and sometimes, an outright battlefield. There are techniques, there are philosophies, and there’s always that one person who thinks you’re doing it wrong. (Looking at you, distant relative who once told me I put too much ginger.) But today, in the spirit of Maa Katyayani, I’m standing my ground. My chai, my rules.
There’s something deeply meditative about brewing tea. The process forces you to slow down, pay attention, and be present in the moment. You can’t rush a good cup of chai—just like you can’t rush inner strength. Maa Katyayani teaches us perseverance and determination, two things that, incidentally, are also required when you’re trying to perfect your tea game.
Ingredients: The Warriors of Flavor
Before we start, let’s gather our warriors:
Water (1.5 cups) – The base of all greatness.
Milk (½ cup) – For that comforting richness.
Tea leaves (1.5 teaspoons) – Assam, Darjeeling, or whatever fuels your soul.
Ginger (1-inch, crushed) – For the fire in your belly and the warmth in your heart.
Cardamom (2 pods, lightly crushed) – Because Navratri demands a touch of royalty.
Cloves (2) – A little spice for strength.
Cinnamon (a small stick) – For a subtle, grounding sweetness.
Sugar (to taste) – Maa Katyayani fights demons; I fight bitter tea.
Each of these ingredients has its own personality. Ginger is fiery, cardamom is regal, cloves are tiny but mighty, and cinnamon is warm and grounding. Much like the different forms of Durga, each spice contributes something unique to the final blend.
Step-by-Step: Chai Like a Champion
Boil the Water: Start with the basics. Bring water to a rolling boil, and while it’s bubbling, take a moment to appreciate how a good tea starts with patience—just like Navratri fasting. (Yes, I’m flexing my self-control.)
Spices Enter the Battle: Add the crushed ginger, cardamom, cloves, and cinnamon. Let them dance in the water for a minute, releasing their essence. You’ll know it’s working when your kitchen starts smelling like the promise of a better day.
Tea Leaves Join the Fight: Throw in the tea leaves and let them brew for 2-3 minutes. Don’t let them overstay their welcome—bitter chai is like an overcooked sabudana khichdi: tragic.
Milk for Balance: Pour in the milk and let the concoction simmer for another 2 minutes. Stir occasionally, watching as the colors swirl together like a divine painting.
Sweeten the Strength: Add sugar as per your liking. I won’t judge—whether you like your tea mildly sweet or ‘might-give-you-a-sugar-rush’ sweet, you do you.
The Grand Pour: Strain it into your favorite cup, take a deep breath, and embrace the magic.
A Sip of Strength
As I take my first sip, I can’t help but feel a connection to the essence of Navratri. Maa Katyayani represents fierce strength, and today’s chai, bold and unapologetic, mirrors that spirit. It’s a reminder that, much like life, a perfect cup of tea needs balance—spice and sweetness, heat and comfort, patience and precision.
But let’s take this a step further. What does strength really mean? Strength isn’t just about standing up to external challenges; it’s about facing the internal ones too. It’s about waking up every day, making a choice, and moving forward even when things feel overwhelming.
During Navratri, many of us fast, abstain from indulgences, and spend more time in prayer or self-reflection. It’s a reset button—a way to remind ourselves that we are stronger than our cravings, more disciplined than we think, and deeply connected to something larger than ourselves. In a way, making chai is a similar practice. The act of brewing, of waiting for the right moment, of knowing when to add what—there’s a rhythm to it. And in that rhythm, there’s strength.
Chai and Conversations
Chai has always been more than just a drink. It’s a ritual, a conversation starter, a moment of pause in our otherwise chaotic lives. Some of my best memories are tied to chai—long chats with friends, quiet mornings with family, even solitary moments of reflection where a single cup of tea felt like a warm hug from the universe.
I remember my grandmother’s chai, strong and fragrant, served in tiny steel glasses that felt impossibly hot to hold. She never measured ingredients; everything was done by instinct. “Experience,” she used to say, “is the best recipe.” And isn’t that true for life too? We learn, we adjust, we adapt. We find our own rhythm.
A Cup for Everyone
While this recipe is my personal favorite, chai is a flexible drink. Some like it with more milk, some prefer it without sugar, some (the true rebels) add a dash of black pepper or even tulsi leaves. And that’s the beauty of it—like life, it’s customizable.
If you’re someone who’s never made chai before, start small. Experiment. Maybe today, in honor of Maa Katyayani, you’ll make it a little stronger than usual. Maybe you’ll let it simmer just a bit longer, allowing the flavors to deepen. Maybe you’ll sit quietly with your cup, reflecting on your own strength and perseverance.
The Strength in Small Rituals
Navratri teaches us that strength isn’t always about grand gestures. Sometimes, it’s in the small things—the quiet prayers, the early morning wake-ups, the discipline of fasting, the act of making a simple cup of tea with intention.
So as I sip my chai, I take a moment to appreciate the journey. The journey of Navratri, of devotion, of self-discovery. The journey of something as simple yet profound as brewing the perfect cup of tea.
And as the steam rises from my cup, I whisper a small prayer: May we all find strength in the ordinary. May we all learn to embrace the process. May we all, in our own ways, brew something beautiful.
Happy Navratri! ☕✨