The Car That Never Came Home
I still remember that cold windy day of “margazhi” (Tamil month-early Jan) when Karthikeyan walked into my Office. Karthikeyan had not come to me for investment advice that day.
He came to talk about a car.
It was early 2019, and he was ready to move on from
his 2015 Maruti Swift diesel. Sixty-thousand odd kilometres. Well
maintained. No complaints, really—except that it felt old. Five years can do
that to a perfectly good car.
The replacement he had in mind was a Hyundai Creta,
the upcoming 2nd upgraded 2020 model. Sensible choice. Comfortable
EMI. Nothing reckless.
He wasn’t asking whether he could afford it. He
already knew he could.
What he wanted was reassurance.
Instead, I gave him a pause.
“What if,” I said, “you keep the Swift for a little
longer—and send that EMI somewhere else?”
He looked at me, waiting for the calculation to follow.
“There’s no trick,” I added. “Same ₹30,000. Same date every
month. Just not to the bank.”
That sentence did the damage.
A Quiet Start
On 3 February 2019, the SIP began.
No drama. No excitement. Money, just leaving the account
every month and turning into units across a few equity funds. Large companies.
Mid-sized ones. Some small and risky. A small hybrid allocation to steady the
ride.
For all of 2019, nothing much happened.
Markets drifted. Statements came and went. Sometimes green,
sometimes red. Nobody checked the portfolio too often. The Swift continued to
do its job without protest.
By the end of the year, a few lakhs had gone in. The
portfolio was slightly ahead. It hadn’t earned anyone’s trust yet.
That would come later—under very different circumstances.
When the World Slowed Down
In March 2020, the world shut itself indoors. Markets
followed suit.
I still remember how quickly things changed. One week it was
concern. The next, panic.
The portfolio that had barely begun its journey was suddenly down by more than 30%. Mid and small caps were bleeding. Numbers on the screen felt unreal.
It’s the phone calls.
Every beginning of the month, like clockwork, my
phone would ring.
“Markets are very bad,” Karthikeyan would say.
Sometimes it was him. Sometimes his wife.
“Should we fund the SIP this month?”
It was never asked casually.
I would slow the conversation down. Every time.
I didn’t predict a recovery. I didn’t quote history charts.
I didn’t try to sound clever. And there was never such a precedent - it was very new to whole generation of people alive - staying indoors - for no one knows till when.
I just kept saying the same thing, patiently, repeatedly:
“This is what SIPs are built for.”
“Stopping now turns a temporary fall into a permanent mistake.”
“One skipped month breaks a habit we worked hard to build.”
Some months, there was silence on the other end of the line.
Then a quiet, “Okay. Let it go through.”
And it did. March. April. May. One month after another.
Staying Put When Leaving Feels Sensible
From the outside, continuing SIPs looked irrational.
From the inside, it felt uncomfortable—but correct.
There was no heroism in those months. Just restraint.
What helped was that the question slowly changed.
It stopped being, “Should we invest?”
It became, “Can we just stay consistent?”
They did.
When Silence Returned
Recovery was slow. Uneventful. Unspectacular.
Large caps stabilised first. Hybrids softened the swings. Mid and small caps took their time, testing patience again.
By early 2021, the portfolio crossed breakeven.
No one celebrated. No one called.
That’s when I knew something important had shifted.
The monthly calls stopped—not because markets had become safe, but because confidence had quietly taken root.
What Remained Years Later
By early 2026, roughly ₹25 lakh had been
invested. The portfolio hovered around ₹45 lakh, rising and falling with
markets but anchored in discipline.
The Swift was still around. Older now. Less impressive.
But the Creta had never come home.
And strangely, no one missed it.
What replaced it was something better: the knowledge that
they could sit through uncertainty without reacting, and come out stronger on
the other side.
Why This Story Matters
This was never about choosing between a car and a mutual
fund.
It was about choosing between immediacy and intent.
Most people think discipline is built during good times.
It isn’t.
It’s built during months when the phone rings and you have
to say the same calm thing again—until fear gives way to understanding.
That’s where real compounding begins.
Delayed gratification doesn’t feel wise while you’re practicing it.
It feels inconvenient. Sometimes even foolish.
Only years later does it reveal itself as freedom.
Disclaimer:
Mutual fund investments are subject to market risks. The narrative above is a
real-life–inspired illustration using realistic assumptions. Past performance
is not indicative of future returns. Investors should consult a qualified
financial advisor before making investment decisions.
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