I was at a statewide medical conference. The organisers had provided an all-day counter offering fresh tea, alongside the standard “tea bag” facilities.

No one can resist freshly brewed tea, so I walked out of a sonorous session for a hot cuppa to clear my brain. The surging crowd of medicos outside the free tea stall put the seminar halls to shame. I elbowed my way to the front, where I got my first glimpse of the sweaty tea seller standing in the sweltering heat. I prefer my tea made in a particular way, but was hesitant to ask for a custom made cup amid the jostling crowd. I haltingly requested strong tea with very little milk and sugar, as I simply cannot stomach a milky, syrupy brew. The man wordlessly turned to his kettle, making me think he had not heard me. When I sipped the cup handed to me, I found it was perfect: strong, with a subtle hint of cream and sweetness. I was about to express my appreciation, but the tea seller beat me to it.

“Is it as you wanted, madam?” he asked.

I left, amazed. I am a reasonably good doctor, who takes pride in my professional care. Even so, I have at times been curt with nagging attendants, or with that last patient before a late lunch. But here was a man whose skills were self taught, who kept cool under stress, and who went on to serve with a smile. This was work ethic at its best, with no “performance based incentive” as motivation (as no one was counting the teas). My lesson at that meeting—learnt outside the lecture halls—was that service is all about value addition.

Competing interests: I have read and understood BMJ policy on declaration of interests and declare that I have no competing interests.

Radhika Natarajan, senior consultant, cornea and refractive surgery

Medical Research Foundation, Nungambakkam, Chennai, India

[email protected]