Tea in my grandmom’s household in Kolkata was always an elaborate ritual. When the house was full of visiting family members, each one requested a customised cup of chai, and no two cups ever brewed quite the same. My Thamma (dad’s mom) enjoyed a light brew with a dash of lime. I still remember the fresh fragrance of the wedge of lime that rested on the saucer. When we visited during the holidays, I looked forward to breakfasts and to the evening ‘cha’ times equally. There was luchi (the puri’s delicious, Bengali cousin, made of maida or white flour), alu dom (a semi-dry potato curry), and the works, our very own version of high tea. As I brew a cup of my favourite Darjeeling second flush, I often think of how the beverage is more than just a drink and in many parts of the world, including in India, it’s a shared language and for some, also an opportunity to get their overdue break or “me time.”
From the strength of the brew to the amount of milk, sugar, or even the vessel it’s served in, tea drinkers around the world have deeply specific preferences. Some swear by a kadak chai with just the right simmer, others need their first cup of the day steeped for exactly three minutes. In many cultures, offering someone a cup of tea is an act of care, but getting it “just right” is often seen as an art form in itself.
From the spiced warmth of ‘Masala’ or ‘Cutting Chai’ in Mumbai’s bustling streets to the delicate fragrance of Kashmiri kahwa infused with saffron and almonds, each cup has a place of pride. In the Northeast, Assam’s bold, malty brews power morning routines, while Darjeeling’s floral notes are cherished by connoisseurs worldwide. Down south, in Tamil Nadu and Kerala, you’ll find “meter chai” theatrically poured from great heights, creating a frothy, strong brew. Whether it’s sweetened with jaggery, steeped with tulsi, or simmered on a roadside stall, tea in India is wonderfully diverse. Kashmiri Noon Chai, a traditional pink salted tea, also has a large fan base. Brewed slowly with green tea leaves, baking soda, and milk, it gets its signature colour from a unique alkaline reaction. Unlike sweet teas, noon chai is seasoned with salt and often garnished with crushed almonds or pistachios.
Though wild tea plants were found growing in Assam for centuries, it was the British who industrialised tea cultivation in India. In the 19th century, the British East India Company, eager to compete with China’s monopoly on tea, began planting large-scale tea estates in Assam and Darjeeling. These regions remain some of the most renowned in the world today.
But what began as a colonial crop soon became deeply woven into Indian identity. Indians adopted tea and transformed it. They added milk, sugar, cardamom, ginger, cloves, tulsi, and whatever soothed the soul and suited the region. Thus was born chai, a democratic drink that crossed class, caste, and language. It’s the kitchen ritual that punctuates mornings and evenings in millions of homes. It’s always a good time for it to be served when guests arrive, when tensions run high, and also when the rain comes pouring down.
Across the world, too, tea acts as a cultural anchor. It can be meditative (as in Japan), medicinal (as in traditional Chinese medicine), or political (as in the Boston Tea Party). Wherever it goes, it adapt,s taking on local flavours and becoming part of daily rituals. Tea rituals and ceremonies have evolved across th globe, over centuries, to reflect the values, philosophies, and social customs of their people. Communities have brewed their own traditions around tea, turning leaves and water into something sacred.
In Japan, Chanoyu, or the Japanese tea ceremony, is less about drinking and more about mindfulness and aesthetics. Rooted in Zen Buddhism, the ceremony is performed in a chashitsu (tea room), where the host prepares matcha (powdered green tea) using a bamboo whisk and serves it with seasonal sweets in silence or quiet conversation. Every part of the ritual, from the way the tatami mats are arranged to how the tea bowl is turned, emphasises purity, tranquility, respect, and harmony. Today, the Japanese matcha has found fans around the globe.
Tea has been an integral part of Chinese culture for thousands of years, evolving into diverse regional traditions. Unlike the formal restraint of the Japanese style, the Chinese Gongfu tea ceremony typically focuses on extracting the fullest flavour through multiple short infusions using clay teapots. The elaborate process involves warming the teaware, rinsing the leaves, and pouring the tea from a high distance to enhance aroma. High in the Himalayas, Tibetan butter tea is also a staple of daily life. Made with yak butter, salt, and strong black tea, it’s designed to provide warmth and energy in cold, high-altitude climates. The preparation is simple, but the serving is ritualistic.
Tea finds favour in many Asian countries, including in Korea, where, unlike the more formal Japanese tea ceremony, Korea’s Darye, meaning “etiquette for tea,” is simple and relaxed, featuring low wooden tables or floor seating and a slow, thoughtful brewing process. While Korea has a rich heritage of traditional teas, of late, bubble tea, also known as boba tea, has carved out a niche in modern Korean food culture. Imported from Taiwan, bubble tea became popular in Korea in the early 2010s and has since exploded into a full-blown trend, especially among Gen Z and millennials. It is typically a cold tea-based drink, often sweetened and mixed with milk or fruit flavours, and served with chewy tapioca pearls (called “boba”).
Tea holds a special place in the Arab world, too. Recently, on a visit to Bahrain, I discovered that the Bahraini Karak, a strong, sweet, and spiced (mainly cardamom) milk tea, is a local adaptation of the Indian “masala chai,” but with its own twist. Across countries like Morocco, Egypt, and others in the region, tea is woven into daily life and social rituals, often with a strong cultural identity attached to how it’s brewed and served.
In Morocco, the iconic Moroccan mint tea is made using green tea, fresh spearmint leaves, and a generous amount of sugar. The tea is traditionally brewed in a silver teapot and poured from a height into small glass cups to create a frothy top, a sign of good tea. In Egypt, black tea (shai) is the staple. It’s typically strong and sweet, often brewed with a handful of fresh mint or spiced with cloves and cinnamon, depending on the region. Tea houses are essential gathering places where people come together to sip tea, play backgammon, smoke shisha, and discuss everything from politics to poetry.
For many of us, it was Jane Austen who brought the charm of British afternoon tea into pop culture. But the tradition itself began in the 19th century, thanks to Anna, the Duchess of Bedford, who transformed a simple midday refreshment into an elegant social ritual. Over time, it became a cherished pause in the day — a moment for conversation, calm, and cake. The food is just as essential as the tea: think dainty finger sandwiches, warm scones with clotted cream and jam, and delicate pastries. Tea is poured from porcelain pots into fine china cups, completing a ritual that still stands as a symbol of British grace and hospitality.
While tea originally came from China, by the 17th century it had become a national obsession in Britain. As demand soared, the British East India Company sought to control both the production and trade of tea. When relations with China grew tense, the British turned to their colonies to grow it themselves. They introduced it in both India and Sri Lanka and began large-scale cultivation, establishing vast plantations using both imported Chinese plants and native varieties. Sri Lanka, formerly known as Ceylon, is now one of the world’s top tea producers, and the tea here is prized for its bright, brisk flavour. In places like Nuwara Eliya and Ella, the sight of women plucking tea leaves in the hills is both a daily ritual and a major tourist draw. Kenya, too, became a major tea-growing region under British rule. Today, tea continues to flourish in many of these former colonies and is a deeply rooted part of local culture, often reimagined in ways that are far removed from the imperial teacup.
Despite the wildly different customs, ingredients, and philosophies, there’s one thing that unites all tea cultures: comfort. And as I wrap my fingers around a warm cup, I realise that the stories we steep into our cups often matter just as much as what’s inside them. Here’s to tea, and to the traditions, conversations, and memories it brews across the world and at home.
