Recently, my family and I had an opportunity to visit the temple town of Guruvayur. And there, at the hotel we were staying in, was a little restaurant. A neat space, well decorated and with an air of cheery hospitality. The temple was a stone’s throw away, the days were bright and sunny, and the food was good.
It’s at the little places that one meets the most surprising and delightful people. Here it was an elderly, genial man, always smiling. He wasn’t around in the daytime it seemed, because I didn’t see him then. After a visit to the temple one evening, we found ourselves back at the restaurant for dinner.
It was a pleasant time, right after the sun had set, and not too deep into the night. When someone asked for an order of fried rice, he looked doubtful. It’ll be too much for one person, he said, guessing that the others would want to eat something else. There’ll be a lot left over, he added, and the fried rice, on his suggestion, was replaced with a masala dosa. Of that he approved, because the portion was just right. Moreover, the dosa was crisp, filled with tomatoes and potatoes, an unusual dosa, drizzled with ghee.
I know these things, he remarked cheerfully. When you’ve worked at restaurants as long as I have, you just know what someone would like. You look at people, and you can guess what they’d want to eat. I knew, he added with a grin, that you’d order fried rice, that it’ll be too much, and then you’ll order a dosa instead. All this was said in warm good humour. He left us to our meal, but came back once or twice to ask about the food. He offered more sambar, filling up our katoris, and knew exactly when the katoris might be empty or full. After the meal, we were wondering what to drink. Have a Horlicks, in hot milk, he suggested. It goes really very well with the dosa. Naturally, that’s what was ordered. After the meal, we told him the food was delicious (which it was), and he was delighted. And through it all, he continued to smile.
In a world that is short on courtesy, and where curt responses are more common than they should be, folks like him are rare indeed—folks who have experience in their work and remain cheerful, well-mannered and considerate towards those they meet. Amidst the chaos, there’s something refreshing about those who speak optimistically, and thoughtfully—those who may have their own problems, and who doesn’t, after all, and still smile. Most of all, individuals such as these, remarkable in their own way, unknown to the larger world perhaps but remembered by those who meet them—these are the people who make life just a little brighter, just a little happier, a little sunnier.
Email: suryakantham3@yahoo.com