Traveling in India … as far back the as the 1970’s, the train slowly stopping at small platform stations at first light, in the middle of farmlands. Having spent the night sleeping in my berth, I stand at the open train door with a thin layer of dust covering me, i buy a hot chai in a brown clay cup. The tea tastes of the earthenware mud, oxen milk, sugar and overcooked tea leaves. Each khooler (cup) just like every other, but with imperfections from the rush of throwing hundreds a day. No time to trim these, no need to perfect these cheap disposal cups. Each has a different firing coloration. Each costs 5 paise (cents) and I take pleasure in smashing it against the rocks on side of the tracks when I’m finished.