My senior colleague advised me to take a break and pamper myself a bit. He suggested a Five Star treat. I shook my head as I remembered my maiden visit to a Five Star Hotel.
I was posted in Kolkata, (then Calcutta), at that time. In those days, I used to travel in over-crowded buses reaching Office crushed and crumpled. On that day when I got down I found that my saree had a hideous tear right on the top fold. The repair could be done only after reaching my desk.
However, as soon as I stepped in I was told I had to accompany the Executive Director to a Five Star venue where he had to approve certain VIP arrangements for a high profile conference. Before I could blink my eyes, I found myself sitting in his car.
ED was a thorough gentleman. If he was aware of my discomfort he did not show and a casual conversation continued till we reached the hotel.
I could feel the doorman’s contemptuous stare at my attire and cringed perceptibly.
The manager who was showing us around was too busy impressing the ED. I could not make out whether he had noticed the tear or not but I for my part was unable to concentrate on his enthusiastic prattle. I exhaled deep and long when the time came for us to leave.
Ironically, thirteen years managing the hospitality section , visiting Five Star Hotels soon became as commonplace as eating Daal Chawal for lunch and dinner.
While discharging my duty I had to inspect all those quarters which stripped the premise of its glitter and glamour. The kitchen where the chef and his assistants sweated it out preparing expensive mouthwatering delicacies, the housekeeping section where promising interns from reputed institutes did menial jobs, the front office which steamed under the pressure of providing accommodation in peak seasons and the stark banquet halls before being decorated with chipped props carefully wrapped in snow white satins and matching pink sashes.
To me all hotels looked alike and its staff uniformly stilted in mannerisms. The only exception was Hotel Imperial which not only boasted of history and heritage but also a priceless collection of original sketches and paintings dating back to the pre-independence time said to have been recovered by a waiter from a heap of junk about to be discarded by the Hotel Management.
Now having seen and experienced it all, I feel a torn saree, a pair of tattered jeans or muddy chappals are too obscure a reason to mar human worth under any circumstances.
(This post was written when tattered jeans were not in fashion)
I am participating in Blogchatter’s #WriteAPageADay Campaign
Wow Di… your journey beautifully illustrates how true self-worth outlasts any facade …! ♥️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Aparna so very much ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
As always – pleasure is mine🎉🌹
LikeLiked by 1 person
Loved your story! I think it is very cool you worked in the hospitality industry for all those years! 🤗✨
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Carol. But to be honest I did not quite like the job…I was more inclined to do jobs which required mental stimulation
LikeLike
I deeply admire you for this GeetaJi. I am sharing post link in my WhatsApp status with a Marathi foot note for my students to get inspired from. 🌺🌺🌷🌷
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much Rajendraji. Your appreciation means a lot 🙏
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s my pleasure !
LikeLiked by 1 person
GC enjoyed reading.
The last message about human worth was strong.
After seeing the real work behind big hotels, did it change how you look at luxury places when you visit them now?
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you Mr. P
There’s always a murky side to all professions.
I have a tendency to snoop under the covers of extravagance…
😆😆😆😆
LikeLiked by 2 people
GC, that is a rare habit.
When glitter is seen along with the hidden sweat behind it, luxury stops looking like magic and starts looking like hard earned art. Makes the shine feel more respectful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Exactly Mr. P. Thank you so much 👍
LikeLiked by 1 person
Welcome, GC.
LikeLiked by 1 person
great job and it amazes me how tattered jeans go in and out of fashion – and I liked that cloisng image
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Yvette. Yes fashion has a cyclic order.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like how you said “There’s always a murky side to all professions.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, you can call it by any name – job hazards ?
LikeLiked by 1 person
yeah – not sure either – but all jobs have some
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great story. You might like this one: https://derrickjknight.com/2012/06/28/dinner-with-the-mayor-2/
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you so much Derrrick 🙏
LikeLiked by 1 person
I can imagine how you must have felt.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much dear Sadje
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re most welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person