Candlelight dinner in a govt guest house
IN December 1987, I arrived at the small town of Sanand in Ahmedabad district to take charge as the SHO of the police station for three months, as part of the practical training of an IPS probationer. I got down from the state road transport bus and took an autorickshaw to the small but charmingly old government guest house.
It had two rooms — the bigger one was reserved for ministers and senior officers like the Collector or the SP, while the smaller one, which was small only in comparison but otherwise large enough, was allotted to me. A small dressing room was attached to it that led to the bathroom. There were verandahs on the front and the rear. The room had a large bed, a big table which could be used as a desk for work or dining and a two-seater wicker sofa, a wicker table with a glass top and two simple wooden armchairs.
It was already evening when I arrived. The caretaker brought tea. I asked him to get fresh fruit, a mosquito coil and a pack of candles from the market. He asked me why I needed the candles. I told him that they would come in handy in case of a power outage.
Hearing this, he gave me an odd look, as if I had come from a sub-Saharan country. He said with a smirk, “This place does not witness power cuts.” His manner put me off. I snapped at him, “Kyon, ye England ki rani ka mahal hai kya (Why, are we in the Buckingham Palace)?” He said nothing and left.
But the question lingered on in my mind. How was it possible? In those days, there was hardly any city in India where there wasn’t an outage for one reason or the other. And here was a small town in a state that had seen three successive spells of drought. Anyway, in a few minutes, the caretaker returned and brought the things I had asked for, including a pack of six candles.
During my stay at Sanand, I went on two weeks’ leave to get married. I wanted my wife to come with me to get a feel of the life of a trainee officer. She agreed and we spent a happy month together at the place; she also tried her hand at cooking by assembling a small kitchen in the dressing room.
Subsequently, I was scheduled to return to the National Police Academy, Hyderabad, for the second phase of training. I decided to take my wife to her parents’ house at Jabalpur and then proceed to my destination.
On our last day at Sanand, while packing the things, I noticed the unopened pack of candles in the table drawer. The caretaker was right. Not once during my stay had a power shutdown occurred. I told this to my wife. Showing her the pack, I asked, “What do we do with this?” She thought for a moment and then said, “Oh, I know what to do with it!”
That evening, a variety of dishes were prepared and we had the most romantic candlelight dinner of our life.
Musings