wingstonmathews

The morning

It was a beautiful morning. I was sitting in the traffic roundel near a big hotel at New Delhi. The date was 19 Jun 1986 and it was a working day. The roundel was actually a big garden well maintained. I was selected for a job in a preliminary interview at my place and then they called me for the final interview in a hotel at New Delhi. The interview was at 09:30 am that day and I had landed up at the railway station at 4:00 am and had walked to this place all the way after a short trip in a bus. I had started the previous evening without any reservation because my parents gave me just enough to eat three meals and bus charges. The railway tickets were already catered for. There was no margin of error possible as far as my money goes. So I decide to request the gardener, who was already watering plants, if I could use his water hose to do my routine like brush, shave and wash. The old man did not seem to like it, but probably was used to broke candidates like me in his long gardening career and agreed for just a couple of minutes and I used it well. I even changed my dress and put on a tie, right there in that public place. Don't think otherwise it was still not sun rise time and there was enough bush there for privacy.

Good morning

Ready in all respect for the interview, on an empty stomach that saved me some cash for any emergency enroute home, I picked up my small brief case which carried only my soiled dress and I marched confidently to the multistory, air conditioned hotel just about a hundred yards away. What welcomed me as I entered the lounge was a cultural shock. I, who was borne and brought up at a large village or a small town to be precise, who had never interacted with any women other than my mother, who had studied in a co-education school where even looking at a girl of own class was considered taboo thanks to our cultural setup, who had never felt the winters in an air conditioned room, who had never climbed beyond the second floor of the highest building in my town, who was already feeling dizzy having looked up at the building whilst entering the hotel garden, who had almost fainted with the grandeur of this hotel, got a 44000 volt cultural shock when a lady, finely draped in Indian saree, greeted me Good Morning, which to this day has been the best morning I had been wished.

The cultural shock

I desperately needed to sit or else I will go off balance. I went and sat down at massive sofa which looked rather like two massive beds, one horizontal which was enough for two people to sleep and the other kept standing behind it, that the lady offered me. She asked me where am I going. I said, I am here for an interview and that was a cultural shock for her this time, probably of 440 volts only compared to what she gave me. Obviously she was there only for customers and not for customers' customers like me. She retreated immediately. When I sat on it, it sank as if there was hole there and I jumped up only to add to the already heavy burden of embarrassment that I had picked up from the time entered this hotel. After a 44000 volts shock I presume it shows on your face, because shortly after that another of her friends at the counter told some one to get me a much needed glass of water. My hunger was killed, my appetite was dead and my confidence lay shattered some where in the hotel approach road from gate to the main entrance. What was left of me was only waiting to be slowly removed from me very soon as the time passed past me in super fast time, blowing the theory of relativity in the wind, which states that time slows down and even stops.

The dream come true

I was calm and composed now and I walked up to the ladies at the reception mustering enough courage, leaving the past behind, armed with only my briefcase with dirty clothes in it and swinging the other free hand to shed even the traces of my embarrassments that is still sticking to my hand and body. I told them the purpose of my visit and asked them where is the interview. She told me that it is in 1503. Now with my attire and the acting that I was putting up, it was below my dignity to ask her, how to get there and which floor is it. I did not know which floor it is in. There was a full three hours to go and I went back the sofa cum bed to wait and see if I can latch on to some one going to the same place. I wasted two and half hours and did not get to see any one, as lost as me for solace. I looked around and saw a set of four doors that had been opening and closing for the past couple of hours as many as twenty five times each and people who went in, excepting a few never came out, but somebody else comes out. I tried to figure it out. Oh yes. It was the LIFT, which I had used only in my dreams, in my entire life and here was the real time opportunity to use and feel the thrill.

The lift

I immediately went to the lift and waited, and waited and waited and waited endlessly. How come when everyone else came it opened and now it is not opening. I could not understand this. Then suddenly as if the lifts brain had understood my thoughts through telepathy, it opened and a bearer walked out. He wished me and I replied. But by then the lift door closed. I waited again as before endlessly. At the end of my patience of which a few seconds were remaining, the lift decided to open. Before the lady who was coming out could be out and before the lift could change its mind about the door, I jumped in to it. But what happened there after was the same, endless waiting. Now I knew for sure that the lift was playing pranks with me. It wont move up or down or open the door. After about five minutes which actually looked like five hours to me, proving to me that the theory of relativity is in fact true and time does stop at times for some people at least, the lift door opened. As before the cultured people gave me way to come out of the lift in hurry as if I am going to miss my flight, to the big sofa in the lounge. I now was running out of time and had no idea how to get to 1503. Just then I saw a cleaner keep one of his foot in to the lift and kept cleaning the inside of lift, actually standing outside. Oh boy, even people here are scared to get inside the lift, which boosted my confidence. At least I spent seemingly five hours inside this dangerous room locked up.

Lifts read your mind.

I had no time to waste and it is better to do something than nothing. Time was now my biggest enemy which advanced towards my interview faster than I could. I mustered what ever courage was left in me, for my second attempt. I had no choice any way, because going up the stairs in front of those immaculately dressed English speaking ladies was unthinkable for a man. I stood trying to concentrate as much as I can, to open the door and my trick worked, the lift door next to the one I was trying to open, opened up and I ran in to that before it closed. I was not actually able to stand the piercing gaze of those ladies at the counter any more, which I could not see, but felt the pain on my back as they went deep in to my spine. By now I had established beyond any doubt that, these lifts could read my mind and have been in a mood to harass me, right from the moment I came, as it knew that I am new to lifts.

I controlled the lift with my mind power.

I stood there trying to use all my mind's ability and concentrated on room number 1503 the mysterious room some where above me. The lift just refused to obey my mind. Then as if it could not stand all the energy that my mind was forcing on it, it started going up and I was scared at the speed it went up at, if the lift was angry or something. This was an experience I will never forget. The lift stopped, I wanted to go out but some one got in, it went down, the some one went out, some more than ones got in, lift went up, some of them got out when door opened, then the door closed and lift went up again, all the remaining got out and I thought it best to follow them, totally confused as to what was happening and totally outraged at the lifts behavior and partiality shown towards me. I saw 801, to 809, but 1503 was no where in sight. Finally, I thought of keeping the loads of pride I have been carrying, in wearing the tucked in shirt and a tie, on the red carpet floor and went up to the single soul, a well dressed waiter, I could see at the far end of the floor and asked where is 1503. He told me it is "ooper hai" meaning it is above. I tried the concentration trick to open a lift door and got in to another that opened. I now knew one more thing about the lifts, that you have to concentrate standing slightly away from the lift you want to open. Slowly but surely, I was learning more about the lifts.

Stairs are any day better.

I stopped concentrating and started praying to the heavenly Gods to stop the time for a few minutes and to the lift Gods to take me to room number 1503 , because there was just six minutes to go for the interview. A late comer to interview will never be selected and having reached three hours in advance, I did not want a late comers tag. Miracles do happen and the lift moved. I had to go up, but the lift was playing pranks again and was taking me down. It stopped, doors opened and I was out of the lift in record time. I immediately recognized the place. This is where my adventure had started. I was back in the lounge. I fought with myself and finally got the permission to keep all the loads belonging to self respect, manhood, pride, dignity, and what ever you can think about on the sofa cum bed. I was much wiser now and ready to do all that I can to get to the interview in the remaining five or less minutes. I went to the lady who had greeted me in the morning, the lady whom I cursed all this while for having shown her beautiful unlucky face to me, the lady because of whom the lift refused to obey my telepathic commands and having wasted all my time. I asked her to tell me which floor is room number 1503. She said "fifteenth floor sir" which to this day rings in my ears like a church bell. I took a deep breath and ran up the stairs and believe me, no one in the world could have challenged me that day in climbing stairs.

It was a good morning indeed. I cleared the interview.

I was in the hall exactly when my name was being called for the interview. The time was 09:30 hrs in the morning in all the clocks every where. The time was running normally, but my heart had already set a world record having run faster than my legs. The interview went off well. They gave a praise for my sincerity to maintain punctuality. The job was mine. I was now a relaxed and tired. I could not have gone down the stairs any other way than tumbling because I could barely walk and hunger was back from the dead. I had all the time till evening when my train leaves the station and was ready for any game the lift wanted to play with me. I stood next to the lift not concentrating at all and yet it opened. Now there was somebody sitting inside the lift who asked me where am I headed, the lift man whose duty starts at sharp 09:30 hours. I said, the railway station. I saw him press some black spot with capital G written on it. Above them were numbers till sixteen, in two rows. I had left my common sense also in longue along with the other burden that I had unloaded there before my adventures with the lift. I had failed to see any thing other than the time in my watch, as time ran out and panic had set in.

This incident was stored in my own brain

I did not cook up any of these things except, make it a bit interesting for you to read. This incident had happened about two decades back, but I remember every moment of it. If you want to know how, then read my very first article on your brain records every moment of your life which I wrote in May 07 right in this blog archive.