It was a big day for my wife.
We had returned from the US after almost 15 years, and she had opened her small handicraft store on a busy high street in our city. Soon after the ribbon-cutting, I gave her a neatly packed gift box.
“Earrings?” she asked me.
“See it for yourself” I replied.
She hurriedly opened the box and found the keys to her new Renault Kwid MY22. With the key in her hand, she rushed out to find an Ice Cool White with Black roof dual-tone Kwid standing pretty.
She turned back to me and asked, “What is Renault Kwid’s price? My business is quite small, I cannot afford to pay for it.”
“Don’t worry, it is a lot cheaper than the smile on your face” I replied. I knew that Renault Kwid’s price started at just Rs. 4.49 lakh* (Ex. Showroom Delhi) but given the sacrifices that my wife had made for me, this price was nothing great.
Ours was an arranged marriage. We barely got time to meet and know each other better before we got married. Since I had to go to the US, both our parents insisted that we got married first and then leave for the US together. So, the ceremonies were completed at a superfast speed and we shifted to the US.
When we reached there, I learnt that my wife had a small but successful business of selling handicrafts sourced from artisans of nearby villages and then selling them in the city. Unfortunately, she had to close down her fledgling business because of me.
Since then, I kept feeling guilty that I had deprived her of an opportunity to become an entrepreneur. Though she never complained, deep down I knew what her young venture meant for her.
So, after 15 years when we came back, I decided to rectify the wrong that had happened. I encouraged her to renew her old network of artisans and suppliers. After much cajoling, she agreed to revive her lost venture. It took her almost a year to get back to a stage where she could afford to open a dedicated store.
Over the last one year, I saw her travel by public transport and by her 2-wheeler throughout the city meeting customers and vendors. By the time she would be back, she would be exhausted and tired. As she gathered pace, she told me that she was planning to open her store. I felt that the inauguration of her store would be a great time to give her something that would remove difficulties from her business. After much deliberation and discussion with our parents, I decided to gift her a Renault Kwid.
Though a small car, I liked the aggressive SUV stance of the Kwid. Its small size belied the comfort, space, and manoeuvrability that Kwid had to offer. The high ground clearance of 184 mm meant that the car would glide over potholed village roads when she went to meet the artisans and the dual airbags with ABS & EBD would make sure that she always remained safe.
But what I liked the most were two things. First was the floor console mounted AMT dial which made the car effortless to drive and the second was the huge boot space the Kwid offered. With 279L of boot space which could be expanded to 620L, I knew that my wife would be delighted as she could now carry back more goods during her sourcing visits to villages nearby.
After a short test ride, my wife turned to me and said, “Leaving the Renault Kwid’s price aside, wouldn’t it be expensive to maintain it too?”
“Don’t worry! It is as low as 35 paise.” I replied.
With teary eyes, she looked at me and said “Thank you for such a wonderful gift and for helping me fulfil my dream. I thought I had lost it.”
“No, we took a small detour, but the dream was still there! And the Renault Kwid’s price is nothing compared to your dream.” I replied.
