It started with a kettle thatrefused to cool down.

In the misted hills of Darjeeling, they learned that the first cup is always offered to a guest. In a Hong Kong tea house smaller than a closet, an elderly woman poured with hands that had repeated the same ritual for fifty years. At a roadside stall in rural China, strangers became friends over chipped porcelain and steam rising into cold air.

Everywhere they went, tea was never just tea. It was the universal language of I see you. You're welcome here. Stay a little longer.

Back home in the UK, rushing between meetings and messages, they ached for that feeling. Not the tea itself — the moment it created. The way time stretched. The way a simple cup said what words fumbled to express.

So they began to gather. Not just leaves, but the stories steeped within them. Teas that carried the warmth of a grandmother's kitchen. Blends that tasted like permission to rest. Scents that whispered of faraway hills and the people who tend them with calloused, caring hands.

Kuppa was born from that longing — to bottle what cannot be rushed. To give you a way to say I'm thinking of you that lingers long after the cup is empty.

Because in a world that moves too fast, sometimes the most precious gift is permission to pause. To sit. To wrap your hands around something warm and remember:

You matter. You're not alone. And someone took the time to tell you so.

So we built Kuppa. Not as a brand, but as a bridge. Between the moments we miss and the moments we can still create. Between I wish I could be there and here, I'm with you.

One thoughtful box. One quiet moment. One Kuppa at a time.

That's our promise. That's our story.