There's a tiny tea stall just outside the gate of my office in Pune, and I'd honestly say it's one of my favourite places in the city. I'm a mechanical engineer, and I've been working at the same company for about five years, so I've probably drunk a couple of thousand cups of tea there.
It's run by a man in his sixties called Ramesh, and his son helps him in the evenings. The stall is basically a wooden cart with a gas burner, two huge aluminium kettles and a glass box of biscuits, with a plastic sheet tied overhead for when it rains. There are three benches around it, and if they're full, people just stand.
He sells tea made with milk, ginger and cardamom, boiled until it's really strong, and also black coffee, which hardly anyone orders. There are biscuits, some fried snacks in the morning, and boiled eggs in the evening. A cup costs very little, and he serves it in small glasses.
I like it for a few reasons. The obvious one is that the tea is better than anything from a machine. But more than that, it's where people from every level of the company mix. You'll see managers, cleaners, security guards and interns all standing together, which never happens in our canteen. Some of my best ideas at work have come from casual chats there. Ramesh also remembers everyone's preferences. When I was stressed about a project last year he started making mine with extra ginger without me asking, and said it was for my nerves. It's that small kindness that keeps me going back.