Morning coffee and butter milk

One of the strange things that one needs to do in life, I find, is that he or she needs to learn to cook. There is no escape, if you haven't learnt it yet, you will have to: some time or the other. In my case, all these years in hostels I have never learnt or needed to learn to cook. Someone, somehow, was always there to cook food. And I was absolutely efficient in dishwashing! I really mean it --- friends would cook using all the utensils they could find, take all the time they need, while I would lounge about in the sofa in the living room, flipping TV channels. And after a hearty meal, it would take me 15-20 min to get the whole place sparkling clean! Things were so good for me and for everyone else then :)

But then I came to America, and found the quintessential invention that will take away my job: the dishwasher! So I woke up the next morning, and found my room-mate in the kitchen area, sipping on a glass of coffee. Jetlagged morning time needed coffee here as well, and I thought I might as well start off by asking how to, or rather where is the coffee powder.
"Dude, there isn't coffee powder in here... you get that coffee bag"
Uh-oh, so I found out that there was a coffee-bag like the fancy Taj Mahal teabags we have in home, that needed to be put into a glass full of tap water. Wait, aren't we supposed to boil the water and then put the coffee in? Naah, you put that glass, along with the coffee bag and the water, right into the microwave, and heat it for 2 minutes!

Yes, it was a cultural shock to me. But the best was still in store. The two minutes started to roll, and AD decided to get back to his bed or somewhere to attend his chores. I dutifully got the coffee out after 2 minutes, and then there was the next big question: where's the milk? AD said, "Its in the fridge", and so I went towards and opened the fridge. I swear, there were at least 6 different types of milk in there: Vitamin D milk, fat reduced milk, whole milk, butter milk and so many types of crap I just couldn't take it in at one time. So I did what I like to do so much: grabbed the first one at hand and poured in a healthy amount into the coffee.

The coffee turned a bit white; it actually represented a scale of brown from the top to its bottom in the glass, together with little granules of white floating about here and there. I still drank it twice: it was not coffee, to say the least. So I decided to ask AD, "Hey, can you take a look at this?"
AD: "Dude, what did you add?"

I sheepishly walked over to the fridge and showed the carton of butter milk. He had a laugh, and after some time I joined in the laughter. So much for being the person who prides himself on his hostel experience! But I now know how not to make coffee. I also know why you should put the whistle on a pressure cooker when you put anything in it to boil. I also know how little water not to add while boiling daal so that you burn the pulses, how much turmeric and salt not to add to the daal to make it reek of the smell. But don't worry, I'll survive :)