The Assamese Chaiwali

By -
*Garima - The Chaiwali* 
At the helm of affairs, one Chaiwala again rose to be the PM of India for a consecutive third time in a row. The love, affection, and popularity of Sri Narendra Damodardas Modi have definitely instilled a lot of pride and respect for all Chaiwalas in me. Notwithstanding the fact that the first day or 'Good Morning' always starts with a hot cup of tea, the connection with Chai is deeply rooted in our lives. At the same time, somewhere in Jorhat, one Chaiwali has been winning hearts and influencing the minds of the local men around her through her grace, beauty, and tea hospitality.

She is Garima, the Chaiwali, who has recently established her shop in front of the NCC Gp HQ office. Garima, in her thirties, is an epitome of beauty, dressed in her Assamese saree which accentuates her curvaceous figure. The exposure of her back and deep midriff reflects her beauty and elegance. Her ample bosom dances to the rhythm of her every move when she kneads the dough. She offers lunch consisting of three chapatis, chane ka sabji, and homemade Assamese pickle for 30 bucks. Her clients are mainly from the collectorate office, the District Court office, the SP Office, and the nearby JB College.

I am her occasional customer due to long office hours sometimes, and I look forward to a meal from my beloved Garima Chaiwali. She responds to my call from my office window with an infectious smile and gets my lunch well-arranged in a steel plate. I silently observe her pelvis gyrating back to work—the gait of commerce.

Garima's tea stall is a small, beautiful place woven in bamboo under the shade of the Gulmohar tree, which is now in full orange blossoms in summer. Her large orange bindi complements the Delonix flowers. She ties her hair in a bun and wears kajal over her brown eyes. Her bright red lipstick draws attention to her sensitive and erogenous lips, enhancing its seductive effect. It also gives a bold assertion of her individuality and a statement of confidence and glamour. Her T-shaped deep navel in a low-waist saree enhances the beauty of her large waist.

Poet Kalidasa would have definitely stopped to appreciate this Assamese beauty in her dance of commerce in a few words: 'The fair one, who may be there, of a lower lip as red as a Bimba fruit, eyes like that of a frightened fawn, of a deep navel, possessed of a voluptuous body with an idly graceful movement through the weight of her hips and slightly bent down on account of her breasts, as if she were the creator's first in the making of a woman from the workshop of God.'

The lingering glance between us—the window to the soul—stimulates the release of oxytocin, the bonding hormone, creating a sense of connection and trust. Stoicism teaches us to be mindful of our surroundings, and the soul becomes dyed by the color of its thoughts. Meanwhile, I relish my sumptuous lunch in the office and take this opportunity again to visit her in person to pay her bills. This intricate tapestry of mutual attraction fosters genuine connection and satiates my hunger. I leave the office in my Radhika, satisfied with the Assamese Chaiwali.

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