One Coffee. Two People. Fifty Dates. Countless Conversations
Kamdi Hemant Bhaskar, IFS
I still remember our graduation days. Once in a while, Sonal and I would get an opportunity to sit together in the college canteen, drink tea, eat some snacks and spend time with each other.
Both of us came from rural backgrounds, where regularly meeting over tea or going on dates was not very common. Besides, we had our own careers to pursue and were serious about building our future. Those meetings were rare, but I still have fond memories of the conversations and the excitement of being together.
The same romanticism continued after marriage. But slowly, slowly, life became more demanding. We got more engaged in our professions. Then came two children, their schooling and parenting. Our parents were getting older and needed regular medical and personal attention. We had our own ambitions and requirements for personal growth too.
Everything was important. Everything needed time.
We were living together, managing the family together and doing several things together. But spending time together and spending quality time exclusively with each other are not necessarily the same.
It was not just about being busy. More importantly, I realised that we needed some time exclusively for each other, away from our routine responsibilities.
This realisation became stronger when our counsellor and life coach, Rashmi Rao Wahule, whom we met on LinkedIn, encouraged us to look at different aspects of our lives: profession, family, finance, parenting, spirituality, self-growth and our romantic relationship.
I felt that things were pretty much under control and reasonably balanced. Our romantic relationship was no exception. We loved each other and had a happy married life. Still, I wanted us to relive those college days when we were young, passionately in love and excited about every opportunity to meet.
It was not about fixing something that was wrong. It was about making something already beautiful even more beautiful.
Rashmi suggested identifying an activity that both partners enjoy, something easy to do, and allocating a specific time and place for it. I also realised that, unless we make space for activities outside our daily routine, they rarely happen.
I have always had a habit of planning different activities for different times and places. Some things are to be done daily, some weekly, and others occasionally. I wanted to make space for our togetherness in the same way.
My first idea was to exercise together daily.
I suggested to Sonal, "Why shouldn't we go for a walk together?" We could talk, improve our health and make constructive use of time. What could be better?
But there was a small problem. Consistency in outdoor exercise was not exactly Sonal's forte!
For me, exercise and punctuality were important. Her occasional delays and absences irritated me, and my insistence irritated her. The activity meant to bring us closer started becoming a reason for quarrels.
Clearly, something was wrong with my brilliant idea.
Then I tried another weekly arrangement. I would go for a long bicycle ride, and Sonal would comfortably accompany me on her scooter. We could explore Nagpur and have breakfast together at some good restaurant. I would get my weekly endurance exercise, and we would get time together.
Again, a very efficient plan from my side!
Initially, I had another difficulty. Why pay several times more for food that was often less healthy than what we could prepare at home? Spending on exercise seemed necessary to me; expensive cafés were difficult to justify.
Sonal had a completely different view. One day she said, "Why do you want to define the lives of others by what you think is right? Somebody might like going to a restaurant also. And I like going to restaurants. So please don't bulldoze your ideas into the lives of others."
That made me think. I wanted quality time, but was defining it entirely according to my own interests. We had different ways of recreation. I enjoyed exercise and outdoor activities, while Sonal also enjoyed going to cafés and restaurants. I became more open to cafés and even an occasional cheat meal, especially after cycling 20–40 kilometres. Still, with me on a bicycle and her on a scooter, we were together without really enjoying each other's company.
We needed something both of us would enjoy.
And that was how our Saturday Coffee Date was born.
Saturday was particularly convenient. Sonal and I had a holiday, while our children had school. Sundays were already reserved for the children, particularly outdoor activities and family outings. So Saturday morning became our time as a couple, and Sunday remained our family time.
Once the children had gone to school and we had completed our respective exercises or household work, we would get ready and go to a coffee shop. Just the two of us. One good coffee, perhaps some snacks, and time together.
For me, the date soon became Saturday's foremost priority. Once my exercise was over, I was ready to leave. But weekends were also Sonal's opportunity to attend to personal and household work left pending during the week. The date was one among her priorities; for me, it was often the first. That difference sometimes tested my patience.
Initially, even our coffee dates were quite structured!
I would sometimes arrive carrying notes. Yes, notes for a romantic coffee date!
I wanted to share what I had learned about myself during our life-coaching sessions—my aspirations, expectations and areas for improvement. I also wanted Sonal to share her side in a similarly structured manner. Somewhere in my mind, I was even trying to help her complete the homework left unfinished during our joint sessions.
So our romantic date had a little flavour of a review meeting!
Sonal tolerated my approach. Fortunately, before it became another reason for disagreement, I realised that not every conversation needed an agenda. We could sit together for half an hour or an hour, drink coffee, look at each other, observe the surroundings and return home. Gradually, I started enjoying these moments of doing nothing together. Now, if I have something important to discuss, I keep it in mind and raise it when the moment feels right.
But have I given up on my wish to maximise our togetherness? Not at all!
I still crave spending more time with Sonal. I would love us to exercise, walk and explore outdoors together, synchronising more of our activities and schedules. I am a little greedy when it comes to spending time with her. Some of my arrangements worked, others did not. Now I would love it if she initiated an activity herself.
Consistency is my forte. Acceptance is something I am still learning.
Sometimes I wish Sonal showed the same enthusiasm and dedication towards our dates. When she does not, I get irritated. There is also a feminist inside me who believes in equality. If we are equal partners, why should I always persuade her? Why can't she be just like me?
Then I remind myself that being equal partners does not mean having identical interests, priorities or ways of expressing love. I am not a perfect human being either.
Even the seating arrangement at a café can bring out our differences. I prefer chairs close together, so we can talk intimately. Sometimes I request Sonal to lean forward with her hands resting on the table. I do the same, bringing our faces closer, like those passionate college-going lovers. I still fantasise about that closeness. But she is not always comfortable with it, and I need to respect that.
In the animal kingdom, males of many species make considerable efforts to attract and court females. I am no exception. Perhaps I should keep courting Sonal throughout my life. The problem is that I often forget this!
I also wish I could crack jokes and make her laugh more often. Making her laugh spontaneously is something I terribly miss in myself.
Initially, the idea of going on dates itself felt a little exotic.
We both came from village backgrounds where a husband and wife with school-going children regularly going on romantic dates was not common. My sisters live close to us, and my parents often stay with us. Everyone was understanding, though. Nobody objected.
The strongest objections came from our children!
"How can you go leaving us behind?"
They were jealous for two reasons. First, Baba was going out with their Mom. Second, perhaps more importantly, we were eating yummy food, including junk food they were not generally allowed at home!
Gradually, the family got used to our routine. Relatives avoided making overlapping plans, and we adjusted our assignments whenever possible. When an urgent engagement threatened a Saturday, we developed a policy of early compensation rather than late compensation: go for coffee before Saturday if possible, or on Sunday or another day if not.
Sometimes it was just a customary coffee, without a special café or much conversation. But we had kept our date. And sometimes, simply because we were in a good mood, we went more than once in a week! The children also accepted our routine, occasionally demanding that we bring back something delicious.
Friends and relatives began asking, "How was your date this Saturday? Which café did you visit?"
Exploring new cafés became another small adventure.
Almost every week, we search Google, look at photographs and reviews, and select a café in Nagpur, preferably not too far away. Fortunately, Nagpur has many good cafés, with new ones coming up. I enjoy good coffee, pleasant ambience and soothing music. Sometimes we arrive at a carefully selected 'new' café only to realise we have visited it before!
We may forget the cafés, but that is because the café is not our real priority. Being together is.
Over time, we built a wonderful collection of photographs. Looking back, I realise that we have completed more than 50 coffee dates in a year. But what happened over those cups of coffee was far more important than the number.
We talked about almost everything: our children, parents, relatives, careers, travel, intimacy, memories, dreams and shared plans for the family. And of course, we gossiped too! We discussed parenting, divided responsibilities and made important decisions. We also quarrelled!
There were emotional moments. There were occasions when Sonal cried.
I am not strong enough to cry yet.
But we could speak our hearts out without pretending that everything was perfect. Sometimes we hardly talked at all; we simply enjoyed the coffee, the music, the surroundings and each other's company.
And then something interesting happened.
There was a complete reversal of roles. Initially, I questioned the need for expensive cafés. Now I am the one looking for beautiful ambience and excellent coffee!
Sometimes Sonal says, "Why spend so much? Let's go to some ordinary café. We just need to talk, and that is possible anywhere."
And she is absolutely right. But I have developed my own love for good coffee. Sonal, too, looks forward to our dates, even if she is not always as particular about the timing as I am. What began as a plan has become a routine, almost an obsession, perhaps even an addiction!
Sometimes I start inviting her for Saturday's date on Friday itself. Occasionally, I write her a letter. Sometimes, even poetry!
On 17 October 2026, I woke up early and started writing a poem for her. It was around 6:25 in the morning. Our son Kedar woke up, peeped into what I was doing, and offered a suggestion when I encouraged him to contribute.
"Baba, please finish the poem with the same line with which you started, so that Mom doesn't forget that today is Saturday and it's one more reminder for her to join the coffee date!"
I loved his idea. And this is what we wrote.
शनिवार, कॉफ़ी और तुम!
To My Love, Sonal
17 अक्टूबर 2026 | शनिवार | सुबह 6:25 बजे
जानेमन, आज फिर शनिवार है।
हमको तुमसे प्यार है।।
करना फिर इज़हार है।
तकरार बिल्कुल बेकार है।।
जाना फिर एक बार है।
कॉफ़ी डेट का करार है।।
गवारा ना तेरा इंकार है।
सेल्फ़ी का भूत सवार है।।
एंबियंस का ख़ुमार है।
करनी बाते बेशुमार है।।
शौहर तुम्हारा तैयार है।
जाने को बेकरार है।।
इन्हीं यादों से ज़िंदगी गुलज़ार है।
तेरे संग जीना बार-बार है।।
जानेमन, आज फिर शनिवार है। ।।
— तुम्हारा हेमंत और केदार
There was a time when our children tried to stop us from going on dates because we were eating yummy food without them. Now Kedar was helping me write poetry to convince his mother to go on yet another date!
Our experience also interested friends and relatives. Some wanted to try something similar themselves, and that encouraged me to share it more widely.
On a few occasions, I spoke about our coffee dates during work-life balance sessions for Indian Forest Service officers attending mid-career training at the Indira Gandhi National Forest Academy, Dehradun. They had completed around a decade of service, and many were likely balancing similar responsibilities at home and work.
I remember showing our photographs during one such session and later telling Sonal about it. That brought another change: we started dressing up properly for our dates! We began choosing beautiful clothes so our photographs would look good and be worth sharing. After all, if our coffee dates were becoming part of my presentations, we had to look good in those photographs too!
It added another small excitement to our weekly routine.
The excitement of being with Sonal has always been there since our college days, and that will never change.
Only the tea has changed to coffee.
And the college canteen to a café.
The girl sitting across the table is still the same.
And so is my love for her.
The writer is Conservator of Forest, SDD, Forest Survey of India, MoEF&CC, GoI, Regional Office, Central Zone, CGO Complex, Seminary Hill, Nagpur
