Our milestones

Between scrubbing the counter and checking logo drafts on my phone at the Munshi Puliya tapri, I watched this anonymous stall slowly turn into something called “Chai 2002”.

One late night, alone with dirty kulhads, a scrubbed steel counter and traffic noise, I finally asked if a boy born in 2002 was meant to do exactly this.

By 2,00,000 cups, my legs ached and the line bent around the corner, while strangers walked into Munshi Puliya asking for “Chai 2002” as if it had always been here.

The night we crossed 1,00,000 cups, rain leaked near the stove, coins barely added up, and yet something about Munshi Puliya quietly told me not to shut the tapri.

From a shaky plywood counter and borrowed utensils at Munshi Puliya to my first real regular.