The End

I was mildly amused when the man told me that it was about time that I left that place. I left without another word, still full of awe for that place which strangely enough reminded me of the movie ‘Being Cyrus’. Where was i? At the ‘Irani’s Hotel’. Ooty, during the tourist season is as chaotic as it can be. But if there is one place which doesn’t seem to be remotely affected by the tourists, it is the Irani’s Hotel. The hotel had found some place to stretch itself within the confines of the ‘Commercial street’. I doubt whether the owners of the place had ever bothered to modify (let alone rebuild) their place! For the hotel simply looks as if it has frozen in time…The hotel had people working there who gave you an uncanny feeling that they had been created to work at this particular hotel. One was the old lady, wrinkled and sober, who seems to be running the show, a bored old waiter who has a hair style which im sure was inspired by Elvis Presley, an ever smiling cleaner who looks quite healthy for his age, an amiable old waiter, an ancient cook, two old helpers and two middle aged women. It almost looked like the old lady (I still don’t know her name.. I don’t know anybody’s name for that matter!) had carefully handpicked all of her employees to suit the aura of her hotel. I imagine they had stories to tell and stories to hide. But they seem to have abandoned the possibility of having somebody to listen to them. Or may be the old lady doesn’t want the stories to be told and may be that’s why she didn’t want me hanging around for too long.. Or may be im just being carried away by my fantastic ideas after all, for how can I judge, when it all ended even before it began….