The day was moving slowly. Maya - the intern at the hospital whose time usually ran fast, wished the day could stretch to 34 hours, so she could sleep more and read her books with tea in hand. Her life often ran too fast, filled with endless shifts and patients needs, leaving little time for rest or quiet moments. But today was different. She kept glancing at the clock every five minutes, longing for time to pass faster.

Meanwhile, Ayaan - the architect who had come to Italy for an overseas project was trapped in a never ending meeting. He sighed deeply as he checked his watch for the umpteenth time, feeling just as restless. The grand office felt cold, bright with fluorescent lights, lacking the comforting warmth of home. His thoughts drifted toward the accidental tea fairy.

Both of them were eagerly awaiting their tea text ritual.

As evening descended and the city lights began to twinkle softly, Maya arrived at the cozy bookstore. The warm scent of old books welcomed her. She ordered her favorite cinnamon honey tea, settled into her usual corner, and waited for the text from the tea poet. Being an introvert, she found comfort in this simple, unexpected connection.

Elsewhere, Ayaan was trying to escape from his office mates, who were suggesting street shopping. But his mind wandered to thoughts of the accidental tea fairy. Finally, he slipped away, found an Indian restaurant, ordered his signature masala chai, and texted Maya.

Ayaan:

Hello, Maya. Sorry for being late for our first-day tea ritual.

(Maya - her legs tapping impatiently, the book in her hand completely forgotten, heard the familiar ping of a notification. Her face lit up.)

Maya:

Hi, Ayaan. No sorry, please.

Ayaan chuckled at her politeness.

Ayaan:

What are you doing now?

Maya:

Reading a book with cinnamon honey tea. What about you?

Ayaan:

Thank God, not that flower in hot water. I’m texting you with my masala chai.

(Maya’s face flushed with mild anger.)

Maya:

Don’t talk about my favorite tea like that. What do you know about jasmine tea?

Ayaan:

Oh, sorry, Tea Fairy, for offending you. I’m genuinely curious, what’s so special about jasmine tea? The fragrance is pleasant, but the tea...

I can’t even imagine it.

Maya:

It’s okay. You just haven’t tried it. Jasmine green tea with honey hits different.

(Ayaan smiled, surprised at how easily she forgave him.)

Ayaan:

Really? Then maybe I should try it.

Maya:

Yes, you definitely should. You’ll love it.

Ayaan:

Oh, okay, Tea Fairy, recipe please.

Maya:

Recipe? You want the recipe?

Ayaan:

Yes, I want the recipe. 

(Maya was stunned by his openness. She had never shared the recipe with anyone. When she was bored at home, she had experimented with cooking videos. That’s when she discovered the Chinese tea ceremony. She had fallen in love with their tradition and began making tea that way. But until now, she hadn’t shared the recipe with anyone, no one had ever asked.)

Maya:

Okay, it’s really simple. You can buy a jasmine green tea bag and steep it in hot water. Then add lemon, honey, or both depending on your preference. Personally, I prefer just honey.

Ayaan:

Thank you for the recipe. I’ll definitely try it, Tea Fairy.

(Maya laughed softly.)

Maya:

Okay, Tea Poet, I told you the recipe. Now you say some poem.

Ayaan:

Poem? About what?

Maya:

About anything.

Ayaan:

Hmm…

how about I say one line, and you tell the next line? Deal?

Maya:

Me? No way.

Ayaan:

Come on, Maya.

Maya:

No, I don’t know anything about poetry.

Ayaan:

Maya, even I don’t know anything about poetry. But I know a girl who’s always in the bookstore with tea definitely knows how to write. Just loosen up.

(Maya was stunned. Yes, it was true. She loved poetry. Even now, the book in her hand was a poetry book. She wrote poems in her diary, though nobody knew).

Maya:

Okay.

I’ll try my best, Mr. Tea Poet.

(Ayaan chuckled.)

Ayaan:

Alright, I’ll start first.

Ayaan:

A warm cup with cardamom steam,

Chattering sound of rain,

Maya:

A cozy corner,

Book and cinnamon tea,

Ping sound whispers unknown secrets,

Stirs the mind,

A warm hug to the heart,

Ayaan:

Wow, Tea Fairy.

I should call you Tea Poet Fairy.

Ayaan:

Maybe it stirs the heart.

Maya laughed.

Maya:

Is it?

Ayaan:

May I know. for what Is It? Is it?

(Maya blushed, embarrassed.)

Maya:

For the compliment.

(Ayaan chuckled again.)

Ayaan:

So, is it? Definitely not part of the poem, just me being curious.

📖Hello readers!

How do you like this chapter?

As promised, I shared Maya’s jasmine green tea recipe.

What are your thoughts on

Ayaan 

and Maya so far?

To know Maya’s reply, wait for the next chapter.

Until then, bye! 

Don’t forget to like and comment,it keeps me inspired.