Most of us remember the first time we rode a bicycle. That moment you looked back and realized nobody was holding it and you were riding it, when you knew it was all you. That rush when you realize a warm feeling is spreading from your chest to the tips of your toes – a feeling you can only describe as being free.
There exist a million moments like these, ones we want to relive again and again. Keepsakes and rituals are the closest we get to experience a moment like that all over.
For my parents, one such ritual was sharing a cup of coffee at 8 p.m., every day. Watching them throw their everything into enjoying that moment made me want to experience it too.
This is the story about that anti-climatic coffee moment and how I found my true love in a cup of tea, despite being raised in a coffee-obsessed culture.