By: AEOP Membership Council Member Nidhi Sagaram

When I was a kid, my grandparents often visited the U.S. to take care of my brother and me. Especially during the summers, while my parents were at work, they stayed home to make sure we ate properly, read books, and – most importantly – didn’t tear down the house.

My grandmother was always in the kitchen, cooking meals filled with love. Her rasam and sambar were the best – brimming with tomatoes, onions, radishes, lentils, and so much more. When school started, she made snacks like fresh caramel and pizza toast. My favorite was her dosa, which she turned into a playful work of art. Using a steel spoon and thin batter, she created intricate portraits – Mickey Mouse, palm trees, the letter N, and more. We would admire her creations for a moment before eagerly dipping them into chutney and devouring them.

My grandfather, on the other hand, was my playmate. We spent hours chasing each other around the house in games of tag and playing hide-and-seek. He always let me win. He also indulged me in a brain quiz game about American history. Growing up in India, he didn’t know much about it, so I won every time. He knew I had memorized the answers without fully understanding them, but he also knew how much I loved winning at that age. 

My grandparents had another great love – tea. They stocked up on tea bags, loose tea powders, instant chai, and more. Their love for tea was endless, filling the house with its warm, familiar aroma. 

But as the years passed, things began to change. My grandmother spent less time in the kitchen, and my grandfather spent more time on the couch watching TV. I’d tug at his arm, begging for another round of the brain quiz, but he would always respond with the same gentle excuse: “Not now, I’m very tired. Maybe tomorrow you can show me how to win again!” 

My grandmother, too, started deferring tasks. When I asked for her caramel candies, she’d smile and say, “Your mom is making dinner today—I’ll make them for you tomorrow.” If I asked for a dosa shaped like the Taj Mahal, the job would be handed to my father, whose creations were charmingly misshapen.

I started noticing other signs – strands of shiny white hair sprouting from their once-dark heads, skin softening into delicate wrinkles, and, most of all, the growing complaints of pain. “My back has been aching all week.” “My knees are killing me!” I was still too young to fully understand aging, but I knew I wanted their pain to go away. 

Over time, I overheard conversations about arthritis and gout – conditions my grandparents were suffering from. Curious, I began researching. I learned that gout is caused by a buildup of uric acid in the joints, leading to severe pain and mobility issues, much like kidney stones. 

Through discussions with experts in Ayurveda, my friends and I explored the traditional use of herbs to alleviate joint pain. Determined to find a real solution, we formed a science team and began experimenting.  

We tested various herbs native to South Asia – including turmeric, nettle leaves, giloy, hibiscus, ginger, cherries, and lemon. After weeks of trials, our research concluded that hibiscus and lemon were the most effective in reducing uric acid and alleviating gout symptoms. 

But pure lemon and hibiscus aren’t exactly enjoyable on their own. Then I had an idea – why not combine my research with my grandparents’ love for tea? 

And so, I transformed my discovery into something simple yet meaningful: a tea bag infused with hibiscus and lemon- a remedy they could enjoy every day to ease their pain. It was my way of giving back to them, just as they had cared for me all those years.