It was a long flight. The transit in Dubai was nearly half a day and sleeping at the airport on the long bench made his body ache. Travelling in business class do have its perks but it was still tiring. How he longed for a massage if he could slot it between his busy schedule tomorrow.
Wait a second. The day full of meetings was today. He looked at his wristwatch and it clearly showed 5am. KLIA was deserted. Except for a few passengers who had landed together with him. Most of them were not going outside the airport. KLIA was just a transit for them.
He waited for his bag and as the conveyor belt spewed out bags after bags, his mind went off to the last 10 weeks of his travel. Travesting Europe looking for new business for his company.
And what he missed most was just a perfect glass of teh tarik.
He did try to do it himself. He did taught the restaurant he stopped by in various cities owned by Turkish, people from India and at some, he even went behind the counters, tried his hands on his own teh tarik. Based on what he had seen how the mamaks of various restaurant in Malaysia had done it.
It was never the one that he remembered. It was either the milk or the tea itself. One of his colleague it may have been the way he pulled the tea. 'Pull' being the direct translation of tarik. But as many in Malaysia know, making a glass of teh tarik was never about pulling. It was about how you make the bubble.
Some hotels in Malaysia have one of the best teh tarik. Just with enough milk and enough bubble on top to make it an appetising drink. Acting as lubricants for conversation to run its course. For doors to open. For friends to catch up. For a simple game of football to be a platform for new friends.
That will be his mission of the day. After loading up his luggage into the airport taxi.
To look for that perfect glass of teh tarik.