Every year, on the last night of October, something magical happens in many parts of the world.

The newsroom was never quiet. It pulsed with urgency, laughter, and the clatter of keys. At peak hours, it became a symphony of chaos.

Long before tea ever touched Indian soil, the subcontinent was already a vast garden of drinks—seasonal, medicinal, and celebratory.

There is a peculiar ache in witnessing autumn. The splendour of fall is both revelation and requiem.

Riding on the currents of empire and commerce, tea’s ascendancy became firm, irrevocable and near-universal. 

The story of tea is never only about leaves. It is also about ships, guns, monopolies, and empires.