
It was past nine in the evening and most citizens of Delhi — a city that has traditionally disapproved of keeping late hours — were getting ready to retire when the phone in No 1, Feroze Shah Road, a MP’s quarter in New Delhi, began to ring. “Who could it be, at this hour?” wondered aloud Gyan Kumari Heda, the Hyderabad Agent on the Kasturba Gandhi Trust and wife of Harish Chandra Heda, MP, as she picked up the receiver. It turned out to be Yashpal Kapur, a member of Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru’s personal staff. “Madam, PM wants you to immediately send meals for four,” Yashpal blurted out right away. A dazed Gyan Kumari took a while to gather her wits in the face of this strange request at such a strange hour. But the explanation that Yashpal offered for it was even stranger.
U Thant, President of Burma, was to land in Delhi to change planes and fly on to a third country. Jawaharlal Nehru had arranged to meet him at the airport and spend an hour with him. Nehru reached the airport to find that the leading nightmare of protocol managers worldwide had come true: there had been a flight delay. Not only would U Thant have to spend several hours at the airport, he would also have to be served dinner on the ground in Delhi.
The implications were obvious. Nehru would have to meet U Thant over dinner, and he certainly could not offer airport fare. Something would have to arranged at his residence. Having decided that, Nehru’s staff woke up to the second protocol disaster of the evening. The Rashtrapati Bhavan canteen, which normally supplied food on such occasions, was closed for the day.When Jawaharlal learnt of this, he was slightly disconcerted. But then he remembered that Gyan Kumari had given a party in her house that very day and, as usual, she had packed and sent him quite a few selected dishes done in unimpeachable Uttar Pradeshi style. Could the leftovers be deployed to salvage national pride and get him out of this sticky situation, he wondered. But Yashpal spoke to Nirmala Sood and learnt that the remains of the day certainly would not suffice for dinner. Nehru realised that if he wanted a decent spread, he now had no option but to go to the source. He asked Yashpal to explain the situation to Gyan Kumari Heda and get the show on the road. And that was why Yashpal was now on the other end of the line telling her that he would be sending someone in another fifteen minutes.Even before Yashpal had finished, Gyan Kumari had quickly taken stock of what she had to offer. It certainly wouldn’t meet the requirements of a dinner attended by two heads of government. She would have to cook afresh, against a deadline. “No, not in fifteen minutes,” she told Yashpal, trying to buy time. “Send someone a bit later.” Then she put down the receiver and rushed to the kitchen, switching on all the lights.
Being a typical Indian housewife, Gyan Kumari was no stranger to situations where unexpected guests demanded to be served at short notice. But she had never had occasion to serve a guest of such stature. But she was perfectly unruffled — she was fighting this battle on her own ground, after all — and went at the project in a thoroughly professional manner. When the PM’s men came, she had a simple meal of rice, curry and poori-bhaji, all done in her trademark UP style, ready to be taken away.
Later, a grateful Jawaharlal told her how much President U Thant had enjoyed her meal. Jawaharlal, too, had loved the food. But his words of appreciation failed to make Gyan Kumari Heda happy. On the contrary, she was deeply saddened. For, listening to Jawaharlal’s praise, a shadow had crossed her thoughts. Had Jawaharlal enjoyed the luxury of a normal household in Teen Murti House, there would have been no need at all for his staff to come over to her to fetch carrier meals for U Thant.


