පාන්දර තේ එක සහ පරණ කතා

I have a terrible habit: no matter how well I’ve eaten or drunk, if I’m on a phone call late at night, I’ll go make a cup of tea and sit on the kitchen table to drink it.

There are so many stories woven around that teacup.

People who listened to songs with me long ago. People who talked about random things. The skinny girl who started listening to CAS because I forced her to. The girl who started talking to me after listening to Arch Enemy.

The girl who stayed up talking till sunrise building dream worlds, who doesn’t talk to me anymore.

The one I never knew I’d meet when we were inventing stories over tea back then. And some of my buried dreams were mixed in there too.

In the 4 years since leaving home, I’ve only managed to sit and make a cup of tea like that on a few days—mostly when visiting home every few months.

But the taste I get from that tea has started to feel completely different.

The things a simple cup of tea can do.