4 min readMay 20, 2026 03:00 PM IST
First published on: May 20, 2026 at 02:49 PM IST
Written by Satish Padmanabhan
It makes for an ill-tempered morning if at least Rs 2,000 is not offered at the altar of Blinkit or Zepto or Instamart before nine. Like how mornings used to be spoiled for my father if he couldn’t listen to the ‘Suprabhatham’ before leaving for office or for Hercule Poirot if the half-boiled white oblong was placed askew in his egg cup. “The Greek yoghurt is over,” the maid announces as I sit down with my muesli. I lunge for the phone and tap the quick delivery app.
“What else?”
“Order some oats and berry mix.”
“OK, what else? This won’t do for free delivery.” She wants nothing else. I have to add stuff worth Rs 159 more for free delivery, the first hurdle or padav to cross as Amitabh Bachchan would say to a KBC quizzer. I rack my brain to think of products that won’t expire soon
“Do we need Hit? It’s mosquito season.”
“No, you ordered it two days ago, we already have three cans.”
What else, what else? Dals? They get used and don’t spoil quickly. Or other staples like coffee powder, or batteries for remotes? Trouble is I’ve gone through the same quandary yesterday and the maid will get mad if I ask for her help again. Let me think. Razor blades, maybe. I’m always running out of them and they cost as though they are made of rare earth minerals. Good idea, a pack of razor blades it is, always useful, stay sharp for a long time and will easily make up the difference
It not only makes up the difference but brings my bill tantalisingly close to the next padav of Maxxsaver. To cross that I have to add stuff worth Rs 316 more. I get 20 per cent off on the total bill, plus a chance to win a ticket to go to Iceland to see the Northern Lights. I scroll up and down. The maid eyes me, takes pity and tries to put me out of my misery. “Olive oil is getting finished, you can get that.” Yes, bingo! A big budget item — that should suffice. Well, now I am within kissing distance of the app’s new “10-4-10” deal: 10 per cent cashback on all purchases for the next 10 months. But I go blank. All the merchandise listed on the screen makes me dizzy.
It’s as if the app has detected my turmoil. Its algorithm kicks in, and I get a pop-up; those who bought olive oil also bought mayonnaise. I hate mayonnaise. But I don’t want to be rude to all those who bought it along with olive oil. It’s like how you feel guilty for not meeting with an accident in an accident-prone area. A kind of FOMO in the negative. So I succumb to conventional wisdom. Besides, it will take me closer to the real biggie: Two free OTT connections and a one-year subscription to the airport lounge. An offer no one can refuse.
Enough, says the Yudhishtira part of my mind. The cart already brimmeth over. The first order, the Greek yoghurt, will resonate with Majrooh Sultanpuri’s words: Main akele hi chala tha jaanib-e-manzil/ magar log saath aate gaye aur karwan banta gaya. Now all the stuff will come within 10 minutes. As they say, time is money. Or, is it? If you think about it, time is the opposite of money. You either have one or the other. Did I need so many things first thing in the morning, even before the barbet can start calling? No. Would anything have happened if the stuff was delivered in the evening? Or the next day? Nothing.
The bell rings. This line of thinking is interrupted. I feel smug that the morning ritual is done. I am good to go. Let the day throw any surprise at me.
“It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day/ it’s a new life for me, ooh/ and I’m feeling good”
Padmanabhan is a journalist and a writer
