Babu Rao awoke to the familiar scent, his eyes fluttering open with a smile. "Chai, my morning muse," he murmured to himself, slipping out of bed with an eagerness that defied his age.

Babu Rao tiptoed past the kitchen, casting a furtive glance at Mrs. Rao, who was focused on her task. He slipped out to the veranda, his eyes scanning the street for the familiar chaiwala's cart. "Just one cup before breakfast won't hurt," he whispered, making his way to his haven of chai.

Mrs. Rao sighed, noticing the empty chair across from her. "Where has he disappeared to now?" she wondered aloud, her patience wearing thin. Her gaze fell on the half-finished cup of chai he'd left behind, a testament to his unwavering obsession.

"Let's see how much chai you can handle," she muttered, a plan forming in her mind. With a final nod of satisfaction, she called out, "Babu Rao, come here! I have a surprise for you!"

"You can't be serious," he laughed nervously, but the allure of chai was too strong. With a mischievous grin, he dipped his toes in, the warmth inviting. Soon, he was submerged, reveling in the absurdity of it all. Moments later, he emerged sputtering, "Never again, I promise!"

Babu Rao sat in his armchair, a single cup of chai in hand, savoring each sip with newfound restraint. Mrs. Rao joined him, a steaming cup of coffee in her grasp, her expression one of contentment. "Moderation isn't so bad," he admitted with a sheepish smile, "As long as I get to enjoy my chai with you."