(Un)Pleasant stay in the Hospital

Nobody likes to stay in the hospital.

It’s a miserable place to be, for the patients and also for the visitors, who devote their extra hours from their busy schedule to their loved ones. The nurses may be good or grumpy, it depends on their work pressure, but most important thing for patient is to pass their time in the best way that they can. Pain is constant and the more attention one gives to the pain, the more it refuses to go. The best way to find relief is to divert one’s attention from pain to something more interesting.

I had a misfortune of spending a week at a Hospital at Mumbai. This hospital is run by nuns and priest, so it is assumed that it could be the most pleasant place to be.

It was peaceful in certain aspect.

Early mornings, there is Mass in the praise of Lord Jesus, the patients are blessed, there are hymns and sermons, then the Christmas carols or devotional songs that keep the mornings peaceful.

The hospital has a rule that TV and Radio is strictly prohibited. I understand such restrictions because noisy distractions may disturb other patients if you are sharing the room.  But if there is pin for charging your mobile or other electrical appliances, then the hospital should have no objections for using such services.  Right?

I was happy to charge my mobile and keep in contact with my family and friends.

I was also in contact with my virtual world through social media. It kept me busy reading posts and blogs of my friends, news on twitter, poems and stories on social forums or playing scrabble with my friends. The few hours that I spend on my laptop were blessed distraction from my severe pain.

Until

A nun visited my room and saw me using my laptop.

“Are you doing some official work in the hospital?” she asked

I smiled and said that I just passing my time.

Two minutes later, the head nurse came to my room and asked me not to use my laptop in the hospital.

Ridiculous!

I wanted to know the reason for her senseless orders; she lost her temper and told me that I must pay Rs50 for the electricity I was using at the hospital.

Isn’t the use of electricity included in the room service?

I have used the electricity at the government offices, doctors’ waiting rooms, at the malls, at the airports, at public places and even during train journeys.

Nevertheless, I was willing to pay if that is what she suggested but she refused, saying, “I said you are not allowed to use your laptop in the hospital and if you wish to charge your laptop, send it home for the recharge. Nobody on my floor is allowed to charge their mobiles or laptops in their room, it is against the rules of this hospital”

Well! Well! Well!

The rest of my stay was spent staring at empty walls and making friendship with my pain.

Dear Vodafone and Crossword, Do You Really Care…..??

When the event in a remote area where there is no proper restaurant in its vicinity, it is important to have a cafeteria where one can soak their dry lips.

Last week I was invited for Vodafone Crossword Book Awards 2011 by my friend, Dipti at NCPA.

Normally whenever I go for any event I always make sure that I have eaten enough so as to not crave for food but on that day, being a Ganpati festival, I went visiting few places before going for this event and didn’t get much time to eat. (I don’t call sweets and Prasad as food and sweets are normally No! No! I avoid sweets)

So, I was hungry.

The event began, with Lillete Dubey as the host, presenting the show. I started to rummage through my purse to find something to eat and found a small packet of dry fruits. Pleased that I had something to munch on, I watched the show.

The show was quite interesting, with the 7-year-old Keshav’s beautiful performance on tabla, (Remember Kehsav, the one who had performed at “Rhythms of India”, the opening event of the Commonwealth Games (CWC) opening ceremony?) He never fails to enthrall the audience.  This was followed by the poetry performance by his mom- Ms Gopika Dahanukar and then of course the main event itself –VodaphoneCrossword Awards 2011.

I earnestly wanted my friend Annie Zaide (who was nominated) to bag that 3 lakhs money prize for her non-fiction work ‘Known Turf’ but it was not to be and I was disappointed.

My hunger grew stronger.

Dipti and I walked outside the auditorium looking for a cafeteria. A big buffet table was set with neatly arranged tables and chairs but (wait a minute) ONLY FOR THEIR ESTEEMED GUESTS. The waiters walked in and out of the kitchen with shiny silver trays laden with exotic snacks and I looked on hungrily like a starving street child. I tried to enter the dining area but the volunteers blocked me, asking me for a white-dinner coupon. White-dinner-coupon? Huh? I looked into the invitation envelop, nopes..there is no such coupon! I have been discriminated!!! There was no food, neither a drop of a drink for a commoner like me. I had no idea that my invitation card did not have the dinner-coupon. I offered to pay for the dinner but they refused. I did see some of the ‘esteemed guests’ begging for dinner coupons for their ‘commoner’ friends but I was not about to beg for such invitations. 


This was too embarrassing for me.  

How much does the dinner cost anyways? huh?  If, considering that more than 20 lakhs have already been spent on this event (that includes prize money, auditorium booking, participants, publishers and readers) can’t they spend extra few pennies to make dinner available to all the attendees, those who remove time from their busy life and honor their show? After all its going to be common people who will give them business, isn't it? Of the 1000 people attending the show, there must have been only 100 commoners like me. Is it so expensive to cater to those too? Why so much stinginess on hospitality?

Dear Crossword and Vodaphone, Thank you very much!! This is what I would call penny wise, pound foolish!!!

It was late evening and I was too tired to go to any fancy restaurant, I just wanted to eat something to stop those restless hunger pangs. We decided to go to a vegetarian restaurant opposite Churchgate station. It was closed. We looked for another restaurant inside the station, it was closed too. We started to walk towards the train and on the platform there was a tiny, sleepy kiosk, selling wafers and snacks. I bought two Samosas for myself and I almost puked because of the stale oil.

Bad day indeed!

I had a noodles soup for dinner at home.

In Transit at Frankfurt

When making long distance travel, the biggest hurdle is when there is overnight stay between the flights. Staying with a family is unnecessarily inconveniencing them and even though they are family, it is not my style to trouble them for pick-up from airport just for one night. Checking into the expensive hotels is the added expenditure, which is quite a waste if you do not enjoy the privilege of touring the place and the third option of spending the long night at the airport is draining off your energy with sleepless nights. Waiting in transit is no fun at all. I have tried all three and have not been happy with any of those options.

But, only once I remember, some few years ago, during my transit at Frankfurt, from Tenerife to Mumbai, it was a pleasant stay. There are thousands of hotels in Frankfurt and some at very reasonable rates, but when I am travelling alone, I am always scared to go to an unknown place in a strange city and that is why when my travel agent suggested that I stay with a family for a night with just € 60, I grabbed this opportunity.

I paid € 60 to my travel agent in Tenerife and I was told that the man in charge would come to pick me up from the airport. I arrived at Frankfurt airport at 5pm, not knowing whom to expect. One gentleman in late 60’s approached me and introduced himself as Mr. Advani. Most of my luggage was offloaded directly to Mumbai from Tenerife, so I had only a small hand-carry which he helped me carry to his car.

He drove me through the city, pointing out to important monuments on the street on route to his house. After an hour’s drive we reached his house where his wife gave me a warm welcome. They had a small apartment 3BHK and there were three more men in the room who were there to spend a night. Mrs. Advani offered me a cup of tea and asked me if I wanted to go for a drive with her to the supermarket. I went along, not wanting to sit with strangers in the room. On the way to the supermarket, I learnt that they had grown up children who had moved out and they were bored till they found this hospitality business of accommodating the transit passengers. Everyday, they had visitors from different parts of the world whom her hubby had to pick and drop them back to the airport and the woman cooked the meals for their guests. She also had a garment store in town which was not doing so well.

By the time, we returned from the supermarket, we were friends. I went to the kitchen with her and together we cooked meals. (not that she asked my help, but I cannot sit idle if somebody is busy) Unfortunately, she had no helper at home, so besides helping her with cooking, I also helped her wash dishes and set the table. She was quick and efficient and within one hour, the dinning table was set with proper meals of Dhal, Rice, one vegetable, salad and snacks. The men were deep in conversation, sharing jokes and anecdotes, and when we entered the room, they included us into their conversation. They had Indian channels on TV but nobody was watching that.

The time passed quickly for us and also for that old couple who would have been lonely otherwise, but they were happy to hear our rant and it made them feel alive having found an audience to share their stories. They didn’t miss their family or their children who had moved out to the sunnier sides, they were happy that they were doing something worthwhile for themselves; they were offering a safe haven to the lone travelers. It was only for one night for us, but for them tomorrow would be another day with different set of transit passengers.

Since I was the only women in the group, she offered me a private room, which I could lock from inside while the other men shared the next room. Early next morning, after a hot cup of tea, Mr. Advani dropped me back to the airport just one hour before my departure time.

It was the most memorable and safe one-night stay in transit at Frankfurt.