by Dinesh Kapoor (PH-1/1203, 9810020179)
Many in Wishtown may not be aware of the Club-3 restaurant opening discreetly a few months ago after a lull lasting a few months when the previous staff left. This morning having my breakfast in it, I suddenly hear a bit of commotion on the table next to me.
It turns out to be an academic one explaining the pronouncement and meaning of the Sanskrit word ‘achyut’ (vP;qr) meaning deprivation. A heated debate has ensued now probably because there are no guests around. I am pleasantly surprised listening to this and more such words being discussed with subtle meaning. And then pleasantly the debate turns to Ramayans of Valmiki and Tulsidas.
It is so classy compared to the environs in which it is being held that I butt in. I take the side of the person who is arguing sensibly with an e-note book in front of him. What I discover behind this intellectual man is more surprising. Here is an intellect discovered in the most unlikely person – he is the club kitchen manager!
I am taken aback for a moment. Unaffected by the surroundings, Kamesh is passionately trying to explain the logic behind the two Ramayans. ‘Uttarkand is not part of Valmiki Ramayan. It is an afterthought. Many priests over the centuries have added stories to attract their audiences. Ramayan was originally written until Lord Ram’s victory over Ravan. The rest is ‘prakshepit’.’ Says manager Kamesh. The other surprise contestant of this scholarly debate is the Gym trainer who gives in when I support the kitchen manager. But he too is so logical, I tell him as I soothe his ego.
As the gym trainer has to go I take over but as a learner. In fact, Kamesh is corroborating what I have been trying to establish. He is underlining the fact that academic intellect is not limited to scholars. His academic record is equally intriguing. He is a graduate of Chaudhry Charan Singh University in Meerut. He was with Fusion homes when he was interviewed and asked to take up Club-3. I wonder though if the JP management and the interviewers knew the invisible talent that this young man possesses.
He ends up the debate which turned into a conversation with me, with another surprise.
‘Karte ho baaten badi-badi.
Waise hi to kuchh kaam karo.
Kyon baithe ho murjhaye se
Thoda apna lihaj karo.’
He is a poet too! I see the person beside him peeling an onion. With every peel, a new trait of the onion can be seen. I advise Kamesh to use some words rhyming with ‘kaam’ instead of the staid ‘lihaj’
But like I said Kamesh is like an onion. Who knows he has some other peel yet to come up to tell us what he meant by ‘lihaj’.
Happy serving us delicious food along with your delicious intellect, Kamesh!
