After quitting all social media, coffee became the only social phenomenon I actively kept alive. So much so that I even made friends in clinic waiting rooms who shared my coffee overdose plight. My gastroenterologist started empathizing with me for paying him such hefty consultation fees. I even searched to see if the Indian government had a caffeine de-addiction program. #Winks.
My caffeine addiction went on for years, gifting me frequent burps and persistent discomfort. Antacids, Eno sachets, and Amlant tablets became essential items in my packing list. Even today, my laptop backpack always has a few Eno sachets tucked away. I tried decaf, tea, milk, hot water, buttermilk, green tea, chamomile tea, ice cream—you name it. But every alternative only amplified the craving, and within weeks, I’d be back to my six-cups-a-day routine. Once, I even managed to quit coffee for a glorious four or five days, but the internet—with its seductive buzzwords and poetic odes to filter kaapi—pulled me right back in.
I was at Ground Zero—problem identified. But I’d also reached a point where I couldn’t function without that morning cup. Add to that, my father, who has Alzheimer’s and often forgets he already had his coffee. With his second cup came my second round too, and my wife was stuck in an endless loop of brewing coffee all day. Despite many failed attempts to reduce consumption, I felt helpless.
Fast forward to the Bengaluru "summer" of 2025—which, let’s be honest, didn’t exist. It rained almost all through May, with humidity soaring past 80%. When the flu swept through the ranks of my software engineer brethren—Anshul, Naveen, Girish, and the rest of us—we quit coffee cold turkey. We started ordering Kashaya, a traditional Indian hot beverage made with a blend of spices and herbs, inspired by Ayurveda, at the Udupi hotel. It has served its purpose. Proof? Less people clearing their throats in the Team meetings. So we are even considering replacing the VS Mani instant coffee powder in our office.
My Kashaya turning point came at my friend Abhi’s place. While sharing my tale of addiction with Abhi's mother, she served me her homemade Kashaya—and it was the best I’d ever had. She even gave me a batch of her own powder, generously made with fresh spices from her hometown in Malenadu. Now, the home coffee quota is down significantly. She taught me two versions: one with hot water, and another with milk. She’s promised to keep making it for me, freshly ground. True friendship isn’t about your Wi-Fi connecting at their house—it’s when the Kashaya flows freely! #Roflmax
Now, I only allow myself one cup of coffee—after my morning walk. No walk = no coffee. My digestion has normalized, and the caffeine–cortisol–appetite cycle has finally broken, bringing relief to my hunger pangs. Coffee lovers might come for me, but this is my truth: coffee isn’t a paradise drink—it’s a placebo.
Remember that iconic Bollywood dialogue?
Kehte hain agar kisi cheez ko dil se chaho toh puri kaynat usse tumse milane ki koshish mein lag jaati hai. (If you desire something with all your heart, the entire universe conspires to help you achieve it.)
Well, the universe conspired—and helped me decaf.
This journey has been one big realization: when you let go of what grips you, you signal to the universe that you are ready to receive.
In other words...
Let go of caffeine, and the universe will pour you Kashaaya.
