Just doing their duty

Why do people feel compelled to shop at the duty-free area in airports?

 

Whenever I go past security while travelling on an international route and hit the duty-free area, I am amazed by the cornucopia of goods on offer. Apart from the regulation liquor, chocolates, make-up and perfumes, these days you have every designer brand from doing brisk business in bags, clothes, shoes and sunglasses. And as I watch people shopping frantically at what is usually (though not always) the end of their vacation, I can’t help but wonder what drives this spending spree.

 

Have these people kept money aside specifically for this purpose? Have they researched the goods available at the duty-free stores to make sure that they can find a specific object? Are they just trying to take advantage of tax-free shopping? Or is this a last blast of holiday fun before they go back to the dreary business of everyday living? 

 

Are these purchases last-minute gifts for their loved ones waiting for them at home? And if they are buying gifts, what is the motivation behind it? Are they driven by love, say, for a spouse who they have missed on a business trip? Or is the purchase driven by guilt at leaving a child behind while they head out on an adults-only holiday? Is the purchase a strategic one, aimed at pleasing a boss who sent them on a company junket? Or are they just ticking off items on a list sent across by a demanding family member?

 

There was a time in my life when I used to do my fair share of duty-free shopping. There were, of course, the boxes of cigarettes that friends and neighbours would ask for. And in those dark days of yore when alcohol was not freely available in India, this was always the ideal opportunity to stock up on whiskey, gin or champagne. I never ever bought stuff for my bosses but whenever I headed back from a holiday abroad, I would always buy many boxes of chocolate for my staff, only partly motivated by guilt for abandoning them to work while I had a nice little foreign jolly. 

 

But now that almost everything that is available in duty-free is also on sale at the neighbourhood mall, it seems like too much of a palaver to get stuck into shopping at the airport. And frankly, by the time I have negotiated check-in, immigration and security, I am so exhausted that all I want to do is collapse in the lounge with a nice glass of wine. The very thought of browsing through shops, shortlisting things, doing a quick price comparison and then queueing up to pay, seems like entirely too much work.

 

And yet, airports across the world are full of people doing exactly that. And I can’t help but marvel at (and be bemused by) their enthusiasm for duty-free shopping. I can just about get my head around those who are buying bottles of liquor or make-up and perfume. But I cannot for the life of me understand those who are casually picking up big-ticket items like Hermes and Chanel bags – hardly impulse buys – on their way to the departure gates.

 

Or maybe I am the one who has got it wrong. Maybe the best way to treat a modern airport is to treat it like a luxury department store. And the right way to recover from queue fatigue is to try a little retail therapy.

Lovin' is easy...

Love may be a universal emotion; but all of us express it differently

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” That’s how Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s famous sonnet begins. It goes on: “I love thee to the depth and breadth and height / My soul can reach…I love thee freely, as men strive for right. / I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.”

It’s a beautiful poem (you really should read it in its entirety if you haven’t already) that sends a shiver up my spine every time I revisit it. Not least because love is such a universal emotion that it unites us all. And yet, all of us express it in so many different ways. We may not be able to articulate our feelings with the felicity that Barrett Browning manages so effortlessly. But in our own bumbling, mumbling way, we express the love we feel for family and friends every day of our lives.

We all know of mothers – and increasingly, fathers – who express their love through food. They find the greatest pleasure in feeding their children. They coax them to eat when they are infants, each mouthful an accomplishment, every clean plate a personal triumph. They harangue them to finish their greens and go easy on junk food as they grow into stroppy teenagers. They stock up on their favourite foods when they come back from college. And even after they have grown up and have kids of their own, the fattening of the prodigal daughter or son never ceases. And thus, the cycle goes.

At the other end of the parental spectrum are the proponents of what they like to call ‘tough love’. Their love is expressed through the exercise of discipline: get up on time, get your homework done, get better grades, get a good job, get it together. Those at the receiving end may find these constant exhortations annoying – and who can blame them for that? – but there is no denying that they come from a place of love. These are the actions of people who want good things for you; even if their way of ensuring that is less than endearing.

When it comes to romantic love, the world is divided into two categories. In the first are those who go in for the big romantic gesture. They shower their loved ones with flowers, extravagant presents, exotic holidays, and the like. These are the people who spend weeks thinking up the best way to propose marriage, splash enormous amounts on money on getting the perfect ring, and then take months to plan their over-the-top weddings.

Yes, George Clooney, I am looking at you. The erstwhile ‘committed bachelor’ who organized a ‘dream wedding’ for his lady love, human rights barrister Amal Alamuddin, in the impossibly romantic location of Venice, because they had first met in Italy. The four-day wedding extravaganza, with A-listers flying in from all over the world, cost between 10 to 15 million dollars (depending on who’s counting). And that’s not accounting for the 750,000 dollars that George paid for Amal’s engagement ring, a seven carat emerald cut diamond, or the cost of the many couture outfits the bride and groom wore every day.

So, that’s George Clooney for you. On the other hand, there are those who just pitch up at the wedding registrar’s office, say their vows, exchange their rings, and save their money for the honeymoon of their dreams, or even more practically, a deposit on a house. That’s not to say that these couples are any less in love than George and the luminous Amal. It’s just that their love is expressed in a different way: in spending quality time with one another, buying a house in which they can build their life together, creating a home they can grow old in. For them, the romance lies not in the wedding but in the marriage.

These are the people who specialize in showing their love for others in practical, everyday ways. We all have friends like these (at least, I hope you do!). They are the ones who show up unannounced to accompany you for that MRI you have been so dreading. They remember which colours/designers/authors/singers you like when it comes to buying your birthday presents. They send you fruit rather than flowers when you are recovering from an illness. They will talk to you for hours on end if they feel you are feeling low. They will take you out for lunch, dinner, a movie, or even a walk, if they sense you need cheering up. In fact, their mere presence in your life is chicken soup for your soul (and they will send some over for good measure when you have a cold).

Speaking for myself, I must confess I am not the one for extravagant gestures. For me, the best measure of love is to share the things I love with the people I love. It could be a book that I treasure, a family recipe, a movie that moved me, or a comedy show that reduced me to tears. And it is those kind of gestures that smack of true love as far as I am concerned. (Though that’s not to say I would turn up nose up at an emerald-cut diamond!)

But no matter how it is expressed, we should all be grateful for the love we have in our lives. So, as the festive season begins, let’s all hear it for love. Express it every day in ways both big and small. Keep yourself open to it in whatever form and shape it may come. And sing along with Bill Nighy, “So if you really love me, Come on and let it show…”

Life is too short...

So, be sure to make the most of every moment you are granted

Life is too short. Life can be fragile. It can end in an instant. Live each moment as if it were the last, because it might well be.

We hear these phrases so often that it becomes easy to dismiss them as clichés. And we trot them out ourselves often enough without ever pausing to consider what they really mean. And then comes a moment when we come face to face with the reality of how short life really is, and how quickly it can end. And in that instant, we realise just how badly we have failed to make the most of it before it ended.

The transience of life was brought home to me last week when I attended the memorial service of a friend’s father, who had passed away suddenly in his late 60s, despite being in perfect health. And as I heard the moving tributes paid to him by his friends and family, I couldn’t help but think how much we take life for granted – right until the moment when it is rudely snatched away from us.

It is never easy to lose a parent. But that blow falls much harder when it lands on your solar plexus completely out of the blue. I know how that feels. In my early 20s, I awoke one morning to a phone call that told me that my father had passed away. I took a flight back home catatonic with shock. It had never occurred to me that my last conversation with him would, in fact, be my last conversation with him. How I wished then, clutching my grief to myself, that it had not been quite so banal. How I berated myself for not saying all the things that I would never again get to say.

That’s the thing with sudden loss. You never really get a chance to make peace with it. No matter how much people try to convince you that this was for the best, and that it was good that death didn’t come after a long and painful illness, it is hard to reconcile yourself to a bereavement that comes out of nowhere. However debilitating a long illness may be, and however unbearable it is to see someone you love suffer, it gives people the chance to get used to the idea that the end will come, sooner or later. And in some sense, the shock of loss is blunted, if only slightly.

But when life ends in an instant, all that remains is regret for all the stuff that you did not get to do, the things you never got to say, the fights that remained unresolved, the anger never expressed, the love never given voice to, the hugs never exchanged.

And that’s when you realise that the phrase ‘live every moment as if it might be the last’ is not a cliché. It is a truth that we should wake up to every morning and clutch to ourselves every night when we go to sleep.

On a more mundane, everyday level, this means getting your affairs in order. Don’t put off writing your will because you feel that it is tempting fate, or simply because you think that you are far too young to think of stuff like that. Make sure your spouse/parent/child knows where the keys to the bank locker are and what the combination to the safe is. If you want to be an organ donor, sign up now. Don’t burden your kids with the decision of how your medical care should go; leave clear instructions while you are still in control of all your faculties.

But while taking care of the practicalities, don’t let the emotional side of life slide past you. Hold your kids tight every day and tell them how much you love them. Kiss your spouse goodbye every morning when you leave the house. Don’t ever go to bed angry; always make up before your head hits the pillow. And most importantly, don’t leave anything – good, bad or ugly – unsaid. Express your anger and resentment and get it out of your system. Reconcile your differences. Share your feelings with those who matter while you can; or be racked with regret later.

And while you’re at it, don’t put off anything for tomorrow that you could do today. Don’t postpone that family holiday for the following summer because you are overworked at the office. If you’re missing a friend, pick up the phone and speak to her now. Get your grandmom to tell you the stories of her childhood. Start that book you’ve been meaning to read forever. Make your own bucket list, and promise yourself you’ll tick one thing off every week.

Yes, life is far too short. It can end in an instant. So, be sure to make every moment count.