tales of Suchita

The first time Harish noticed the man, he was running from one side of the hotel lobby to the other, carrying two identical pieces of towels, which according to his very exacting guest were actually lilac and lavender and so, vastly different.

The reason he noticed the man was, he was an oasis of calm in the otherwise frenzied lobby. Harish’s hotel was hosting an awards function so even though it was past midnight, one would think it was only 6 in the evening. There were all kinds of important people and celebrities going in and out of the hotel. Equally, there were a couple of groups squatted in the lobby, waiting for a celebrity to appear so they could click a selfie.

Harish had become used to celebrity presence in the past two years he had been working in the hotel. So, he didn’t turn into a pile of bubbling goo in the presence of one. Although, he liked to think he would never have been the type of person to stake out a hotel lobby with the only intention of running into someone important.

The man, dressed in a pair of grey tracks and black t-shirt, looked like any other man. Except he had a Kindle in his lap. And it wasn’t an accessory, Harish knew, because he could see the man’s eyes moving, rubbing a thumb on his lower lip, as he concentrated on whatever he was reading.

His absorption and obvious delight in what he was doing was like a balm to Harish’s nerves and he didn’t even flinch when the guest threw both towels on his face, saying he was looking for mauve instead.

*

The next time Harish saw the man, he was yawning. In front of him, a group of people had formed a tight circle around an actor who had just come out of the awards function, a trophy in hand, a triumphant smile on her face.

He wanted to laugh at the man’s audacity and disinterest. The actor was a star and he didn’t care! Who was he to be so blasé in front of such beauty?

Harish hadn’t expected to be caught staring but it was possible his gaze was too piercing because the man looked up, snorted at the circle in front of him and turned away, catching Harish’s eye. He stared, focussing on him the same way he had been focussed on his Kindle.

Had he not been in his uniform, and had he not been on duty, Harish would have approached the man, asked him what he was reading and possibly even invited him home. But he was in uniform. On duty. And any minute now his manager would call him to fulfil some other ridiculous wish of a guest.

Until that happened though, Harish allowed himself the luxury of eye-contact with the beautiful specimen in front of him.

And if the beautiful specimen happened to wait for Harish until his shift ended at 8 in the morning and offered to take him for coffee, even though they were already inside a hotel that served five different kinds of coffees that Harish had tasted in various decoctions because the girl in-charge liked his face, well, it was the perfect icing to a very stressful night.  

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Song: The Most Beautiful Boy by the Irrepressibles

Check out the other posts for 2023 here. Written as part of #BlogchatterA2Z

Header image: Photo by Iván Rivero