Anger, Hurt, Embarrassment, Love, Pride …All in that one moment!

It was 4 a.m. It was also a Sunday morning. Most people would be sleeping, some would be in the middle of a dream or a nightmare, some awake yet unaware of where they are. I was awake. Wide awake and on my way to the domestic airport at Mumbai to catch a 6 am flight to Bangalore… oops! Bangalore. My parents and my better half were accompanying me. 

We had mutually agreed that we should reach the airport by 5 a.m and we did manage it quite well. We got in, collected our boarding passes, reached the gate from where to board the flight and made ourselves comfortable on the seats nearby.

I am either asleep or restless. That’s how I have always been. A great book or movie could be the rare exceptions to these self-proclaimed states of my being. I decided to roam around the airport, check out the book stall, the café and so on. I asked my wife if she would like to join me or remain seated. She chose my company.

We went to the book store, stared at a few books, touched a few, and read what written on the back cover of a few more. The shopkeeper, who reclined on his chair, appeared like an unattended sack of potatoes, thanks to his irregular shape. However, he didn’t even flinch an inch as he just sat there opening his eyes occasionally. He was quite sure that we would not purchase a book and he was absolutely right. He surely had commendable insights on consumer behavior I must admit.

From there, we walked to some luxury stores, obviously clear in our heads that we weren’t going to buy a thing. And then we reached a coffee shop. One look at the menu card and the person who coined the phrase “the sky is the limit” would have committed suicide. I was thankful that my wife did not have tea or coffee and I was quite happy to wait till I reach the destination at 9 a.m to have my cup of tea.

At that very moment, my wife said we should have some sandwich; I don’t recollect the name though. I was of the opinion that it’s too early in the day and it is a tad too expensive so we can have a good breakfast in Bengaluru. I managed to convince my wife of my viewpoint and after wandering around for another 15 minutes, we decided to give our parents company. We went and sat opposite them talking about my friend who was going to get married the next day. Subu, as we fondly call Mr. Subramanium Gopalkrishnan, was just about to begin a special phase of his life. We talked about how I went to school together with him, the fact that we knew each other before we learnt to write the alphabets of the  English language. My mother expressed awe and happiness while stating how special and important such bonds are.

My father meanwhile said he would like to roam around a bit. Our conversation continued undeterred, not losing momentum inspite of one participant excusing himself. And as the conversation continued on the very topic of my friendship with Subu, my father came around to ask my mother if she would like to have tea or coffee. My mother was quick to convey her preference for tea while I tried to tell my father that it would be very expensive.  As none of us are frequent flyers, I thought he might be unaware. He walked back ignoring my comment, which, I thought, was a pearl of wisdom; a key decision support data for him in this case.  

The interrupted conversation came to a complete halt like a flight that I had just seen land. When my attention was back on my mother and wife, I could see both of them looking in the direction of a café of a famous coffee brand. I aligned my sight in their direction only to see my father about 5 metres away. He was approaching us with a cup of tea and coffee – one for mother and one for him. He gave her the tea cup and asked us if we would like to have tea or coffee. My wife and I replied in unison but neither did in the affirmative.

My wife, enthused with the opportunity to pull my leg, pointed out to me as to how romantic my father was. It was so good that after more than 30 years of marriage, they still were so romantic. I agreed to her point deep down without actually making my agreement evident to her.

My father is one among the herd of the great Indian consumer who is price sensitive. Any purchase decision of such a consumer is a result of two factors – price and value as perceived by them. I was quite shocked to see him spend those 150 odd bucks on tea and coffee.

It was a moment. A moment which I wish I could capture, make it into a video clip and replay as often as I possibly could. It was one moment where I felt anger, hurt, embarrassment because my father was proving that he was more loving and caring than I was, without even realizing it. On the other hand, I was happy to have been born to my parents, who could care as well for each other today, as they probably did during their wedding day, if not more. I could feel the love; I was feeling proud as well. A plethora of emotions on a beautiful Sunday morning coupled with the announcement to get ready to board the flight at the background. I never believed that you could feel five to six basic human emotions in one second… or should I say one moment.

I got up with my bag and moved towards the queue to board the flight while happily giving this moment unauthorized and unrestricted access to the first position in the queue of events that will be etched in my memory as long as I live.