The Cup That Cheers

The Cup That Cheers

The cup that cheers
I was from Madras Presidency of British India and the contiguous Indian States. So my country of birth is India. I was shipped to the neighbouring country named Ceylon (during the British period). I do not know the whereabouts of my parents. But I do know, I was adopted by one James Taylor a British planter who pioneered the cultivation of my breed in Sri Lanka.
To work in the plantation project he got down many minor workers from my land of origin (labourers). I was brought up in the picturesque hill side of Ramboda. A beautiful view of mountain scenery. Paddyfields nestle in the valley. The sky above them is dappled with fast moving clouds assuming fanciful forms in their flight. It required a sub-tropical climate and a sloping terrain soil, rain, sun, and different altitudes for my growth. I did not have any education.
I belonged to the earth. From my early age I was subject to an operation to give a flamboyant look to my body. From my tender age terminal shoots are picked up in a ten-day rotation. We were all virgins fed on water and the best nutritious food obtained from earth. My young days were miserable. Pruning and cutting dried parts of my body retarding the growth. Therefore I did not grow much in height. It was a lump of fat shady growth that spreads from shoulder to shoulder.
I blossomed in to a pretty maiden among cloud capped mountains, deep valleys, and yawning chasms, peace, pure cold air and the water cascading down over the rocks. This gave me a healthy effect for my fast growth.
The day starts before sunrise. Everywhere men, women and children start giving me enough problems by plucking and throwing into baskets which they carry on their backs usually slung from their foreheads by ropes.
All these men and women pluckers are enshrouded in dark grey or brown blankets hanging from their heads to their bare knees to protect from cold and rain. While these labourers are at work, along the mountain valley one could...

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