It had been a cold, February dawn, when, bracing herself against the wind, Ramola determinedly set out on her morning walk. Icy wind penetrated her skin, wrapping her innards in a chilly blanket. The sun was yet to emerge. A fresh gust of cold wind blew through the mountains.
Her eyes watering, she wrapped her parka around her tightly, pulling the hood over her head and drawing the collar closely about her throat. Ramola had her head bent to save her face from the atmospheric onslaught. She walked quickly forward, her face to the east, her mind on a steaming cup of tea. By now her bones were grinding painfully like the cogs of an ancient machine.
The sight of the tiny tea shop around the corner accelerated her pace. Not a soul was in sight as she strode towards Murli’s stall. She was aware that it was too early for the locals to seek his brew. The regulars seeking gossip would trickle in after a while. For the last couple of years, this had been her stopover after a brisk morning walk.
Kettle in hand, the old man was bustling about in his minuscule kitchen. ‘You’re just in time, the tea is ready,’ he greeted her with a toothless grin. Minutes later, he brought her a mug of his special tea – the thick, sugary brew flavoured with a generous dose of cardamom. ‘This will warm you up in a minute.’
Nothing delighted the old man more than gossiping with his customers. It helped him bond with the regulars and regaled the tourists. From the weather to the latest scandal in town, Murli had a cache of delightful snippets to entertain willing ears. ‘It is rather cold this morning.’
‘Hm-hmm,’ agreed Ramola non-committally as she didn’t feel like being drawn into conversation.
She drew off her gloves and rubbed her palms briskly together before cupping the steaming chipped mug. It was by merest accident when she had sought shelter from an unexpected deluge during one of her treks at daybreak that she had discovered that this cramped shack, with its two laminated tables and eight plastic chairs, served the best tea in town.
Taking a sip of the rejuvenating brew, Ramola glanced around the tea shop. A pretty girl at the adjoining table smiled at her.
‘Hi, I am Tia, Tia Apte,’ the girl called out, her honey-brown eyes sparkling with energy. She rubbed her hands together to warm them. ‘It’s freezing today.’
‘So it is,’ Ramola grunted. She was in no mood for civility that morning. ‘The weather here is more mercurial than the moods of a menopausal woman.’
‘I like the metaphor,’ chuckled Tia.
‘You are new to Ramsar, I guess.’
‘Yes, I arrived only a week ago.’
‘On a holiday? Not many tourists come to this place, and never during this time of the year.’
‘I’m not a tourist. I mean, not in the strictest sense of the word. I’m going to be here for a while.’ Tia sipped the hot brew and smacked her lips in approval. Picking up her mug, she made her way to Ramola’s table.
‘It’s a long story,’ she smiled self-deprecatingly as she pulled up the chair opposite Ramola. ‘Do you mind if I share your table? I don’t much feel like my own company today.’
‘Suit yourself,’ Ramola gestured to the chair inviting her to sit down. ‘A word to the wise, though. It’s not a good idea to share personal info with complete strangers.’
Tia threw a glance around the shop and lowered her voice conspiratorially, ‘I’ll make it cryptic then. I’m running away from the truth,’ she whispered.
The statement amused Ramola. It was a repetition of her life’s story. Despite the resolution to stay aloof, curiosity got the better of her. ‘Aren’t we all? Each one of us has a ghost we want to elude. Okay, I’ll take the bait, what’s your ghost?’
‘Mmmm … this tea is surprisingly good. I am already feeling better,’ Tia sighed, leaning back in her chair.
‘It is the best in town, although I guess any tea would taste good in this weather.’
‘The kind they serve in my hotel tastes awful even when the weather is foul.’
‘And which hotel would that be?’
‘I am staying at Misty Meadows. There are just two hotels, I was told, and this one is supposed to be the better one.’
‘Oh, that flea pit! I wouldn’t eat or drink anything there even if they were giving away free samples.’
‘Does one have a choice? There aren’t too many hotels or B and Bs in Ramsar,’ replied Tia with a shrug.
‘Coming back to your story, which truth are you running away from?’
‘The truth that nothing lasts forever, not even love.’
‘That’s quite a profound statement. What has happened to make you so cynical about love.’
‘Heartbreak,’ the girl blinked back her tears bravely. ‘My fiancé dumped me just three weeks before our wedding.’
‘Sweetheart, no man is worth brooding over. If I had died each time my heart was broken, I would have died a dozen times by now,’ Ramola patted the girl’s hand. ‘Cheer up. It’s not the end of the world. Although it may not seem possible now, you will get over it.’
‘I intend doing just that.’
Ramola retrieved her phone from the pocket of her anorak and flicked through the messages.
Tia looked at the woman seated across the table. The doe eyes and cupid lips were strangely familiar. ‘Pardon the cliché, but I’ve seen you somewhere before,’ Tia exclaimed, studying the hooded figure across the table.
‘Not likely. We are meeting for the first time,’ Ramola replied brusquely.
‘No, I am sure, I recognize you from somewhere,’ insisted the girl.
‘I am sorry, but I’ve got to rush off now. Enjoy the beauty of Ramsar.’
Ramola paid for the tea and departed hurriedly.
I know that face, Tia muttered. Turning to the tea vendor, she asked, ‘Who is that lady, Murli?’
‘Arre, don’t you know?’ he tut-tutted at her ignorance. ‘Don’t you watch any Hindi fillum? She is the famous fillum-star, Ramolaji. She comes here for a cup of tea every morning after her walk. She likes only Murli’s tea,’ his wrinkled face broke into a proud grin.
‘When did Ramolaji come to Ramsar?’
‘About two years ago. It was the Kaifal season, I remember. Everyone at Ramsar was excited because a fillum star had come to stay here …’
‘Thank you for the tea, Murli. It was excellent. I will come back soon to hear the whole story, but I am in little bit of a hurry now.’
‘Everyone seems to be in hurry this morning,’ the tea seller grumbled. He had hoped to narrate a juicy piece of gossip to the nice young girl.
Heartbreak forgotten, Tia rushed towards her hotel, excited after this unexpected encounter. She had to make a few calls. What a stroke of luck running into the reclusive star! The girl chuckled gleefully as she pictured the look of utter amazement on her friend’s face.