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Last Monday morning my wife's health was deteriorating so fast that my son and I decided to shift her to the Cancer Center in our Corporate Hospital in a hurry. They received her in the Emergency, revived her, and shifted her to the ICU. No attendant is allowed into the ICU, and there was no guest accommodation in the upcoming Hospital, but they asked us to be a phone call away within five minutes walking distance day and night.
Unfortunately this Hospital is situated in one of the most crowded and polluted dingy centers in Secunderabad. We hunted and found that there is only one 'hotel' nearby. One can say it is a 1.5 * joint. We walked in and asked the Counter Manager, Saleem, for an AC Double Bedroom. And Saleem pointed out to us the big placard on which is scrawled the hand-written message:
"NO VOTER ID...NO ROOM"
We both grinned and he asked me my native place. And I said: "Gudur," a half-truth. And he said: "I too am from Gudur!"
And then I said: "You must have heard of my Father, GRK, who was HM in the High School there."
That was the password.
Saleem Bhai shouted into the corridor:
"Arrey oh, Ramu! Kahan soa rahe ho! Eh dono mehman ko Room No 101 me settle karo. AC challoo karo. Luggage undher rakho. Chai panee ka intazam karo!"
And he shook our hands and gestured us in with a bow, which we reciprocated with the Hyderabadi Salaam which consists in lifting the right hand to the right brow, slightly opening the palm and bending a wee bit.
My son was commuting between our home an hour or more away fetching our daily needs and sleeping in the Hotel at nights, while I stayed put there and was making friends with the Hotel staff.
The next morning I went to the Counter and told Saleem Bhai:
"Our Room 101 is hosting a fat rat that is scaring us"
"AC Room? Rat? Impossible!"
"Come and have a look...it has built a nice cozy nook in the space between the wardrobe and the wall"
"NO, sir! I am scared of rats. No one complained so far, so it must be a recent arrival...Arrey Oh Ramoo...chooha ko bhagao re!"
Ramu came down and escorted us both and smiled and said:
"This rat is older than this Hotel sir...Don't worry...it only eats lungis but not pants and shirts"
And left.
So, I kept my banians, underwears, towels, lungis and such soft cotton clothes under my pillow and shoved my couple of pants and shirts into the wooden wardrobe and banged its door shut. It resisted a bit and I kicked it so hard that the doors closed so flush that not even an ant could get in.
And slept off.
Next morning at 6 AM I got a call from the Hospital to go there as soon as possible since they were waiting for me to sign some consent forms before they start some plumbing inside the abdomen.
I jumped up and and in my hurry pulled the brass handle of the wardrobe hard. It resisted. I pulled it with all my might.
The brass handle came off and was mocking at me from my fist.
I then took a knife and after a lot of struggle plucked the jammed doors open, and dressed up and ran.
That afternoon I went to Saleem's desk and asked him to give me a screw driver if he has one, without telling him why...I wanted to screw the handle back in.
He bent down at once, opened a drawer and handed me a screw-driver of the exact size I wanted without any argument.
For once he didn't pose surprised...the screw-driver demand must have been 'default' by then....
The rat never bothered us though...except for occasional squeaks...must be a gentleman rat....
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Last Monday morning my wife's health was deteriorating so fast that my son and I decided to shift her to the Cancer Center in our Corporate Hospital in a hurry. They received her in the Emergency, revived her, and shifted her to the ICU. No attendant is allowed into the ICU, and there was no guest accommodation in the upcoming Hospital, but they asked us to be a phone call away within five minutes walking distance day and night.
Unfortunately this Hospital is situated in one of the most crowded and polluted dingy centers in Secunderabad. We hunted and found that there is only one 'hotel' nearby. One can say it is a 1.5 * joint. We walked in and asked the Counter Manager, Saleem, for an AC Double Bedroom. And Saleem pointed out to us the big placard on which is scrawled the hand-written message:
"NO VOTER ID...NO ROOM"
We both grinned and he asked me my native place. And I said: "Gudur," a half-truth. And he said: "I too am from Gudur!"
And then I said: "You must have heard of my Father, GRK, who was HM in the High School there."
That was the password.
Saleem Bhai shouted into the corridor:
"Arrey oh, Ramu! Kahan soa rahe ho! Eh dono mehman ko Room No 101 me settle karo. AC challoo karo. Luggage undher rakho. Chai panee ka intazam karo!"
And he shook our hands and gestured us in with a bow, which we reciprocated with the Hyderabadi Salaam which consists in lifting the right hand to the right brow, slightly opening the palm and bending a wee bit.
My son was commuting between our home an hour or more away fetching our daily needs and sleeping in the Hotel at nights, while I stayed put there and was making friends with the Hotel staff.
The next morning I went to the Counter and told Saleem Bhai:
"Our Room 101 is hosting a fat rat that is scaring us"
"AC Room? Rat? Impossible!"
"Come and have a look...it has built a nice cozy nook in the space between the wardrobe and the wall"
"NO, sir! I am scared of rats. No one complained so far, so it must be a recent arrival...Arrey Oh Ramoo...chooha ko bhagao re!"
Ramu came down and escorted us both and smiled and said:
"This rat is older than this Hotel sir...Don't worry...it only eats lungis but not pants and shirts"
And left.
So, I kept my banians, underwears, towels, lungis and such soft cotton clothes under my pillow and shoved my couple of pants and shirts into the wooden wardrobe and banged its door shut. It resisted a bit and I kicked it so hard that the doors closed so flush that not even an ant could get in.
And slept off.
Next morning at 6 AM I got a call from the Hospital to go there as soon as possible since they were waiting for me to sign some consent forms before they start some plumbing inside the abdomen.
I jumped up and and in my hurry pulled the brass handle of the wardrobe hard. It resisted. I pulled it with all my might.
The brass handle came off and was mocking at me from my fist.
I then took a knife and after a lot of struggle plucked the jammed doors open, and dressed up and ran.
That afternoon I went to Saleem's desk and asked him to give me a screw driver if he has one, without telling him why...I wanted to screw the handle back in.
He bent down at once, opened a drawer and handed me a screw-driver of the exact size I wanted without any argument.
For once he didn't pose surprised...the screw-driver demand must have been 'default' by then....
The rat never bothered us though...except for occasional squeaks...must be a gentleman rat....
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