I wasn’t always this warm.
Just a few minutes ago, I was swirling in a kettle, water bubbling like it was late for something. Then someone dropped a bag of me—well, my essence—into a cup, and suddenly, I became more than just water and leaves.
I became tea.

Now I sit here, a little steamy and still, watching the world from this ceramic perch.

And honestly? I’ve seen some things.

There was the girl who sat alone at 7 a.m., wrapped in a sweater far too big for her, sipping me like I was the only steady thing in her life. No phone. No book. Just me and her silence. She didn’t cry. But I think she wanted to. And somehow, she didn’t, because I was there.

Then there was that meeting, four people around a conference table. Tense. Stiff. Cold. Until someone said, “Let’s take a break?” And then came the mugs. Steam, smiles, and the soft clink of spoons. Nothing magical happened. But everything softened. I think it was Salgar Tea in those cups, strong, dependable, the kind of warmth that knows how to settle a room without saying a word.

I’ve been the companion to nervous hands on first dates. The pause button during Sunday afternoons. The polite excuse in awkward conversations — “Let me just make some tea.”

I’ve been poured into chipped mugs and fancy porcelain. I’ve been microwaved, steeped, over-brewed, and forgotten on kitchen counters. I’ve seen people whisper to themselves before taking a sip, like I’m some kind of ritual. Maybe I am. Especially when it’s Salgar Amruttulya Tea,  earthy, bold, almost ceremonial in how it invites you to sit with your thoughts.

Because here’s the thing no one tells you about me: I don’t rush.

Coffee? It’s all about the jolt, the go-go-go energy in a cup. People drink it when they need to. But me?
I’m different.
I’m the drink for when you need to feel.

And people feel a lot when I’m around.

Some drink me when they’re heartbroken. Others, when they’re home after months away. Some sip slowly, like they’re trying to stretch time. Others take one big gulp, like courage in liquid form, and walk into whatever storm awaits.

I don’t have big dreams. I won’t change the world.

But I hold space.
For thoughts. For pauses. For people.

And in a world addicted to speed, isn’t stillness a kind of rebellion?

So if you’re holding me right now, hi. I see you. Whether I’m in a thick-bottomed glass at your favorite Salgar Tea tapri or in your favorite cup at home, I’m here.

Whatever you’re escaping, facing, feeling, or fighting… I’m here. I won’t fix anything. But I’ll stay warm as long as I can. And maybe, that’s enough.