Familiarity does not always breed contempt !

We live in an age obsessed with frictionless efficiency. Walk into a modern, high-end hotel or a newly minted restaurant today, and you are greeted by an army of high-tech wizardry: automated check-in kiosks, app-based ordering, fancy cutlery and minimalist rooms designed to look like a glossy architectural spread.

Yet, of late more often that not, I have seen a strange paradox at play: the fancier the gadgets, the colder the experience. Pouring millions into automated infrastructure does very little when the human element is completely missing. Some of the most mediocre customer service can wear a five-star badge, carry an exorbitant price tag, and hide the touch-screen protocol. In this era of relentless digital noise, we have somehow confused expensive with excellent, forgetting that money can buy luxury, but it can never manufacture soul.

It is precisely this realization, this quiet fatigue with paying thousands of rupees for a good holiday or time, that makes the endless hunt for the "next big thing" feel exhausting

Of course, it isn’t that I am entirely opposed to trying new things. But let’s be honest about the hidden tax of modern novelty: it takes an immense amount of time and energy wading through reviews, decoding ratings, and carrying the silent, exhausting burden of making a choice for everyone else.

We are often told that familiarity breeds contempt. But when it comes to the places that genuinely care for us, nothing could be further from the truth. That is why I am unapologetic about being a creature of habit. I will happily return to the same store, check into the same hotel, and order from the same menu at the same restaurant every single time. When your professional life demands that you manage constant change, your personal downtime shouldn't be a gamble. You go back to the familiar because you know everything there will be fine and that quiet certainty is priceless. It is the human experience that stays with you.

Long after you’ve forgotten the room decor or the speed of an app, what truly stays with me are the small details and gestures. It’s the bright, unforced smile of a staff member who offers plain water when you have just walked in after a tiring journey It’s the hotel that quietly permits an early check-in when you are running on empty, or the desk clerk who remembers how you like your tea brought up with a civilized, lukewarm patience.

At the end of the day, loyalty isn't bought with gold plating, smart room automation, or a loyalty points app.

As Maya Angelou observed, "People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

I return to certain places because, in a world that feels increasingly automated and disconnected, it make me feel understood without demanding a performance in return. So, let the tech giants keep their automated gloss and their inflated price tags. I will take the understated charm of a place that trades algorithms for empathy any day. Because as any good observer will tell you, a warm human welcome is the one thing you can never code into an app. Every time we find a corner of the world that welcomes us with open arms, a hot cup of tea, and a sincere smile, it reminds us that true connection is alive and well ; waiting for us right where we left it.

Thank you for reading … God Bless !