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Journalism of Courage
HOW difficult could it be, especially after all those years of being at the receiving end.
My confidence, however, was tempered by the reactions I got from nearly all Udipi owners. They informed me that waiting tables was an all-male domain, one that a woman would find just too strenuous.
Things looked bleak until I met Jayant Kumar Shetty, owner of Gandharva Restaurant, famous for its piping hot vada sambhar and just-launched Punjabi menu, and also for its reasonable prices and efficient service. While Jayant was sceptical, he signed me on as waitress for a day, warning me that things could really hot up during peak hours.
My story, in case anyone asked, was that I was a hotel management trainee. My immediate supervisor, Ritesh, took me to the kitchen, which was a perfect example of method amidst madness. Divided into five parts, each counter dished out different delicacies as orders were yelled out, tavas and kadais sizzled and food was dished up quicker than you could say Saar.
I would have to come down to the kitchen and give the order at the respective counters, Ritesh quickly briefed me.
A Maharashtrian family seated in the 8216;Family Area8217; were my chosen ones, and I walked up to them, wading my way through intensely curious stares.
My nervousness must have been apparent since Ritesh came along as I readied to take the order at Table 36. 8216;8216;2X3 Tomato Soup, 1 Veg Sweet Corn Soup, 1 Corn Mushroom Soup, 2 Masala Papads, 1 French Fries, 1 Hara Bhara Kebab and 1 Onion Pakoda,8217;8217; said the lady who looked at me incredulously as I took down the order on a typical hotel notepad.
One thing I learnt that day. Most people don8217;t eat South Indian food at an Udipi anymore. I confirmed the lady8217;s hunch about my being a trainee, and rushed down to the kitchen to place the order. And in the midst of all this, also found the time to make a duplicate of the order for billing purposes.
That done, I was asked to rush back upstairs to the AC room to serve Table 55. This order was a cinch, I already had some experience. But in another couple of minutes came a summons from Ritesh8212;Table 368217;s food was ready.
With soups, papads, and pakodas balanced precariously on a round tray, I gingerly made my way up. For inspiration, I thought of all those souls who had so efficiently served me at various Udipis.
And was the Maharashtrian family impressed! Soup and starters done with, they placed their orders for the main course. Endless trips to the pav-bhaji and juice counters later, they finally asked for the bill. In between billing them, I executed two more orders. As the patrons at 36 left, they smiled at me and said, 8216;8216;You are learning very well. You8217;ll definitely go a long way in the hotel line.8217;8217;
I dealt with the next few orders successfully. Handling them, I reckoned, with a by-now trademark style of serving.
But let me tell you something, two hours of serving, running around, and memorising all kinds of little details had me pooped. Which doesn8217;t in any way mean that serving at Udipis is out of bounds for women. Hell, a couple of days more and I would be outserving every other man around.
However, right now, it was time to attend to aching wrists, cramped thigh muscles, and one awfully sore back.
