Day of turmoil

Millennium eve. 1999. We used to run a very contained operation in that department of the resort I was in Goa. Okay, maybe contained is not the right word. Maybe, secluded is the right word. Room service. But in a resort, room service can be "anything anytime" word to the room guest. People would call up and ask for towels, wheelchair, nahane ka sabun and khelne ka plastic boat. And we had to somehow say we served just food and beverage. Then guide them to the particular department where those things would be available. Mary was our Room Service Order Taker. She was an amazing lady. Even if there were over hundred orders in processing, she would keep going, take orders calmly, remind the boys of priorities, work on reminders by the guests and mainly not panic. But one day she did. I received the call from her at maybe 10.40 am. She spoke in Hindi. The singsong Hindi that Goans speak. "Aap jaldi aa sakte? Idhar kuch toh bhi ho raha!" Mary requesting presence to anyone was panic stations. I was already in a late breakfast melee in the coffee shop but yet I extricated myself and reached her. To reach the Room service department from the coffee shop, one had to cross the main kitchen. And two wash ups. And one could see the debris of a full resort's morning operation. Dirty dishes piled high all over and yet service staff clamouring for plates, bowls and spoons. I knew what I was getting into. Wrong. I barely knew what I was getting into. When I reached the room service order taker's cabin, I saw that even bed teas from 8.30 am were still pending or had just missed the priority list of some service steward. Captains were running around assigning orders, doing trays for pick up, getting food from the kitchens. But it was all a game of increasing volumes. Every minute passing by was bringing more orders. Every minute bringing failure to serve. Say, Room 108. First thing in morning, the family ordered for bed tea. That may not have gone. Because of the rush. So they ordered for breakfast too. That might have been delayed. Now, they were ordering Dosas from the all day menu. Orders like this were happening from each room, every room. Millennium. Once in a life time. Everyone on a holiday. Everyone playing cards in room. Everyone needing food but lazy to go to buffets laid out in other restaurants of the hotel. Mary and me and the boys determinedly got to work. I remember even now how we cleared everything nearly by 4 pm. Lots of complaint handling. But we did it. We simply told the truth and got away in most cases. Patiently, we kept sending orders. I remember the kitchen guy who was doing sandwiches. At one point, he'd asked, itna sandwich kaun kha raha. None of us had lunch that day. It's another thing that I couldn't have dinner too after all that as the millennium party was gatecrashed and a 1200 odd gathering rose up to over 1400 and again all hands had to be on deck. The only food that I did have throughout that day was an utthapam shared with Mary somewhere late afternoon. It was cold and rock like. But it held us up. That evening, the stage was in water and Alisha Chinai sang. Made in India. We entered the new century leaving all the turmoil behind. And now we still see the same turmoil.