WENT out of the city two days ago, and as I entered the fancy hotel where I was put up, I was told by the manager, “Sir, you have been given a super deluxe room!” “Thank you,” I said, quite impressed by the way the ‘super’ was stressed by the manager. I followed the bell-boy to my room. He opened the door with a flourish, drew the curtains and exclaimed, “Enjoy!” and I all but expected him to give me a bow or royal courtesy, which he nearly did, and I was quite pleased, as I got myself ready for a bath to take away the ache in my bones I felt with the long journey I’d had.
With a smile on my face and whistling my favourite tune, I turned the hot water on, and waited the required seconds to feel the gentle warmth that would take away my fatigue. Ice cold water flowed out. No, I did not stop whistling, a little forcibly now, as I imagined the hot water travelling all the way from the boiler on the roof, maybe stopping at a redlight, then slowly surging forward when the light turned green, and I waited while whistling another tune, which slowly started dying on my lips as I realised that my fingertips which I’d put forward hopefully under the hot water tap, were still cold.
I rang the reception, and the manager hurried up, “Look at the silver fittings sir!” he said, “Just for you in your super deluxe room!” “Thank you,” I said, “I need hot water!” “In the other rooms, we don’t have such decorative fittings sir, only ordinary steel ones, and when you are having your bath and open your eyes, you will want to close them again! So bad! So bad!”
“I am sure!” I said patronisingly, as he continued turning the fancy fittings left and right, then up and down, then half one way, and half the other way, and yet in a steady flow of defiance only cold water gushed out. “Did you see the view sir? Those windows are soundproof, and even a bomb blast won’t wake you up!” I didn’t care much for the idea of a bomb outside my room, and decided enough was enough, “Where’s the hot water?” I asked a little rudely.
“I am afraid, there is no hot water sir!” he said, and without turning his back to me, slowly moved out of the bathroom, then out of the gilded room. A little later as the ice-cold water made me spring around shaking and shivering, I looked at the fancy silver fittings and through clenched teeth muttered, “Many of us are like you!”
“How?” they seemed to cry out. “Fancy suit, showy hairstyle, ornate gestures, or religious rituals! All fancy fittings! And when the hot water of spirituality, love and brotherhood is supposed to flow, there’s none..!”
—Email: bobsbanter@gmail.com
