Smiles, Coffee, and the Power of Being Present

There’s a quote often attributed to Maya Angelou: “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

Whenever I hear it, I think of a senior colleague of my father’s — someone who, without grand gestures, taught me how powerful genuine attention and care can be.

A Subtle Yet Profound Impact

I first met him when my father was posted in Tokyo. From our earliest interactions, I noticed a quiet, consistent thread: he always made me feel seen. It wasn’t just in conversation — it was in the small details he remembered. At one gathering, I heard him tell others, “Every time I ask Pratibha how she is, she says she is good.” Then he turned to me with a smile and said, “Stay good.”

Such a simple moment, but it stayed with me.

Over time, I learned to notice little things the way he did. For instance, I observed that he never took desserts, but always enjoyed a single poori (a puffed Indian flatbread). So whenever we hosted dinner parties and knew he would attend, I made it a point to set one aside just for him. It felt like a small way to reciprocate the care he showed.

The Care That Transcended Distance

When my father was transferred to Ho Chi Minh City, and I stayed back to finish my Ph.D. at the University of Tokyo, I thought my “embassy days” were over. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.

One day, I received an invite from his assistant. I RSVP’d yes — partly because I remembered once hearing him remark that if someone is free to attend an event, they should accept the invitation rather than decline to feel important. When I arrived at his home, he went out of his way to tell me that the guest room was ready for me, so I didn’t have to worry about getting back late — even in a safe city like Tokyo, that gesture made me feel even more secure. I stayed over and left the next morning after coffee, feeling taken care of in a way that words struggle to describe.

A Humbling Realisation

Years later, back in India, I happened to visit his office along with another colleague of my dad’s. It was the month he was due to retire. As we sat across from him, it suddenly dawned on us that it was his birthday — and we were appalled at having shown up empty-handed. He simply brushed it off and ordered coffee for us.

It was only later that the uncle accompanying me pointed something out: “Did you notice he ordered coffee?”

I said, “Yeah,” wondering why it mattered.

He smiled and said, “When I visit him alone, he orders tea. But because you were here, he remembered you don’t drink tea and made sure to order coffee instead.”

The Power of Presence

It’s in these moments — small, almost invisible to the untrained eye — that you realise what it means to make someone feel seen. He never needed fanfare; he noticed, remembered, and quietly cared.
Because of him, I became more mindful of how I make others feel.

The Shift Towards Authenticity

That mindfulness has evolved over time.

Today, I’m working on being intentional about my interactions — moving away from people-pleasing and into offering genuine care. It hasn’t been an easy journey. Setting boundaries and showing up authentically has been challenging, but it’s also been incredibly enriching.

A Recent Reminder

Recently, I attended a startup event and was visiting different stalls when a founder approached me and said, “I know you.”

I was completely clueless — I didn’t recognise him at all.

We began talking, and I asked him how he remembered me.

He said, “When I interacted with you, you were smiling, positive, and helpful. I remembered that energy.”

Hearing that moved me. I was slightly appalled that I couldn’t place him, but I felt a quiet warmth in knowing that the energy I was trying to live with — one of authenticity, positivity, and presence — was coming through, even when I wasn’t consciously trying to make an impression.

A Legacy of Authenticity

That day, I thought again of my father’s colleague — how his small, thoughtful actions left a permanent mark on me, shaping the way I try to show up for others.
It’s not about being remembered in grand ways. It’s about how people feel in your presence.

And that, I’m learning, is the true legacy we leave behind.

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Endnotes:
– This piece reflects my journey of becoming more mindful of how I make others feel, inspired by the simple yet profound example of a colleague who taught me the power of small, genuine gestures. If you’ve ever had someone like this in your life, I hope this serves as a reminder of the lasting impact of authenticity and presence.