Masala chai always reminds me of rest stops and rain – Himalayan apple orchards wrapped around rugged trails, the smell of mountain soil, tatters of sky flashing blue smudging to thundercloud grey – a lot like your eyes – I could never tell where the gold ended and the filaments of green began. Nothing comforts the soul like a cup of masala chai, you whispered, savouring the milky decoction of black tea and cloves. Cardamom pods bobbed like boats, in …