Why I love my mug?

There it was. Sitting on my kitchen shelf. A small and brown one. Glancing upon the mug that I used during my college days, I reflected upon the fact that I have somehow managed to carry it with me till now. This mug of mine has traveled with me to all the cities I have lived in. Looking upon it, suddenly I felt the need to sip my evening tea from it. 

So with it I sat in my balcony and spent the next few minutes gazing at the sky and birds with the warm fuzzy memories of my college life that my mug brought along with it. I remembered my friends, our evening tea parties and our endless gossips. The way we studied hard and our carefree laughs when we relaxed. Something dawned upon me then. I am emotionally attached to my mug.

I have always been a tea lover. The ritual of making my own tea is a part of my comforting morning routine. To me it is the best way to give a kickstart to my busy day. Oh, what a feeling it is to greet the morning with a sense of warmth in my hands. And it feels magical when I get to sip the tea I love from my favorite mug. It's a rich experience to let it wake my senses slowly. 

It's darker now. The sun has set. The birds have gone back to their nests. Wrapping my hands around my mug somehow makes me feel nearer to my friends. Holding it makes me feel safe, loved and cared for. I long to have tea time with them again. I know it will melt away my troubles and bring a smile to my face.

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