It was a day I will remember throughout my life. The date was October 12, 2014. I was driving back from Kolkata to Bengaluru, where I stay, after the Puja vacation.
During my stay in Kolkata, I heard that a cyclone approaching the coastal Andhra Pradesh and Odisha and it made my family members nervous because my shortest route back to Bengaluru went through the same states. But I had to return anyhow and couldn’t think of a longer route since my vacation was coming to an end. With all the uncertainty ahead, I bid goodbye to my family and started -- in the wee hours of October 11. I was alone.
The weather had already started to deteriorate. I had planned to cross Vishakhapatnam, 880 kilometers from Kolkata, before the cyclone hit the coastal city the next day (Oct 12) but soon after entering Odisha, I could understand that it was virtually impossible. Frequent bursts of rain and stretches of poor roads (relentless shower over the week had taken a heavy toll) didn’t allow me to accelerate and by the time I reached Bhubaneswar, it was already afternoon and the cloudy sky messaged that evening was due faster.
In Bhubaneswar, I could understand that people were quite panicky. Thanks to the horrible memories of Cyclone Phailin a year ago. The city roads were comparatively empty and I accelerated. I wanted to cover as much distance as possible before the storm struck.
National Highway 16 (earlier NH 5) looked too good for a cruise and the hope of making it to Vizag, 442 kilometres away, even by late night flickered again. But not for long. As I was getting into the top gear, one of my car’s rear tyres exploded. I had already crossed Bhubaneswar city by then and not much help was available to repair the tyre as I looked around. It was only after a ‘messianic’ local youth came to my rescue that I could manage to find a new tyre in a local town market, even in the gloomy weather. The afternoon was lost repairing the tyre and there was no hotel nearby to retire. The mechanic who mended my vehicle’s tyre shut his shop as soon as I was done. “Try to get a shelter in Berhampur. Don’t be on the roads in this weather. It is also getting dark,” he threw a caution.
It was indeed a nervous journey from there. Berhampur was another 135 kilometers and while driving in that stretch, I didn’t find a single soul. No other vehicle was seen heading towards Vishakhapatnam and I understood how serious the situation was. But I kept on driving as long as the daylight was there. I was tired and hungry as well for I had been driving for over 15 hours by then. And when I almost hit a stray cattle on the dark highway near Berhampur, I decided to call it a day. I didn’t want to take a risk to evade a danger.
But I was surprised to see that the surrounding was pitch black even if I was approaching Berhampur. “Where do I find a hotel in this dark,” I thought. Looking as far as I could in the headlights and the drizzle, I spotted two figures standing in front of a building located on a narrow road adjoining the highway. I stopped and got down of the car to approach them. There was hardly any light anywhere except a bulb hanging in front of the building. “Do you know if there is a hotel anywhere here,” I asked. I could understand they looked at each other and then one of them replied: “You won’t get any accommodation anywhere as all hotels have cancelled their bookings because of the cyclone. You can, however, go a bit further down this road and there is one there. You may be lucky as the owner of that hotel is known to be a compassionate man.” The two then walked off.
I took my car down that path and after driving for five minutes, saw the hotel. A modest three-storey building (there were a few lights outside, hopefully) with a guard at the entry. I parked my car near the gate and approached the reception counter. I saw a middle-aged man sitting at the reception, busy doing something.
-- “Can I get a room, please? I need a shelter for the night.”
The man looked up. “Sorry gentleman, all bookings have been canceled,” he said.
-- “Sir, I don’t have any booking. I am just a traveler who got stuck in the dark. The weather is also getting worse. Please allow me to stay for the night. Will leave as early as possible.”
The man now looked up and saw me. “Don’t you know that the weather will get bad? Why are you traveling in this condition? There will be no respite for the next two days. Where are you going by the way?”
--“Bangalore.”
--“Goodness! And that too alone. Okay, stay but remember we cannot assure services. You might not get food of your choice and electricity and water supply can get disrupted anytime.”
--“No problem sir, I can survive with bread and candles.”
--“Okay.” The hotel owner took some advance money and called a boy to show me my room. I expressed my gratitude, parked the car in a covered shelter and took the luggage to the room. It was on the second floor and I noticed not a single other boarder in the entire hotel. “Who will come in this weather, sir,” the boy answered when asked about it.
That night was okay. I had a plateful of dinner and the electricity supply was intact. I switched on the television in my room to see how things were getting worse further down. I soon fell asleep for it was too tiring a day.
And just as the owner had said the previous night, I got the bad news confirmed on the morning of October 12. The cyclone had already hit Andhra Pradesh and Vizag was destroyed by its rage. A high alert had been issued against any form of traveling on the highways and that meant I had to spend another day in Berhampur.
An even worse prediction was that the cyclone was due to reach Berhampur in the night. The day was boring for there was no electricity from the morning and the quality of the food too deteriorated. The owner said the hotel’s cook had left his home and that he too would be staying at his own house in Berhampur that night.
“You have to manage tonight somehow. My hotel supervisor and one of his assistant will be there. Don’t worry. Your car will be safe as security will be there,” he said.
“Okay, at least there were some boys yesterday. Today, there will be just three persons apart from me and all of them will be downstairs while I will be alone on the second floor. The calling bell will also not work since there is no electricity,” I said.
- “Nothing to worry. It’s all safe here. And you will be able to start tomorrow once the weather clears.”
There was hardly any other choice for me. The whole day I sat in the balcony, witnessing how bad the weather was getting around me. The lunch was just about manageable and around 4 pm, when the assistant came to give me a cup of tea, he gave another shocking news. One of his relatives was badly injured in the cyclone and he needed to rush to Bhubaneswar to take care of the injured man’s family. That means only three of us were left for the night.
The assistant also assured me, saying the supervisor will take special care of me and if I wanted, he could stay on the third floor with me. Or else, I can also go down to some other room. Thinking such a wish could make me look a timid person, I told him not to worry. “I will be okay here. If any problem, I will give him a call. You just give me some more packets of candles and match boxes in case I need them,” I told the assistant. He followed the order and told me before leaving that the supervisor will meet me in the evening.
The sun set early, thanks to the impending winter and the dark clouds, and it was dark. Electricity supply was stopped by the local authorities so that no big accident occurred during the storm in Berhampur. I had got out for a walk in the campus but found it difficult in the dark on returning. I saw the supervisor coming with a torch in his hand. “I was coming to you the only sir.
Let me escort you to your room. I am very sorry that you have had much inconvenience. But you know, the local people here get very frightened nowadays when hearing about the cyclone. But don’t worry. I will reach your dinner myself and then you can lock yourself in for a good night’s sleep,” he said.
When he left, I was alone in the entire second floor. There were plenty of rooms on both sides of the corridor passage but all were empty. There was no light except a few candles to help me out in case I needed some assistance. There was no sound anywhere, except a fading one of the whistle of the new security guard down. I just lied down idle in the flickering light of the candles, intending to kill time. The phone also ran out of charge almost and luckily, I had informed everyone back in Kolkata about my current status.
Around 8.30 pm, I took my dinner which the supervisor himself came up and gave. We had a few words and then he left, advising me to retire to bed early. The sound of the wind was slowly gaining strength and even though the windows were shut, I could hear it pressing hard against the windows and even the concrete walls. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
It could have been a few hours since I had fallen asleep when somebody made a slight knock against my room’s door. I sat up. Who could be it at this hour? I took up my watch to see it was 12.30 am. The wind outside was quite strong. There was no other sound anywhere. I felt as if I was the only man breathing on the entire planet. I asked: “Who is that?”
--“It’s me, the owner,”
Owner? But he had left today morning for his house. Has he come back? But at this hour and in this weather?
I got down from my bed and opened the door with a candle in one hand. I saw a tall gentleman with white beard standing outside.
--“Yes?”
--“I am Raju Senapati. The owner of this hotel. Just wanted to know if you are having any problem staying here. I know today is extremely bad. Did you get proper food and all?”
--“It is very kind of you Mr Senapati. I am absolutely fine here. In this situation, you can’t ask for anything more. The hotel staff members have cooperated very well despite the problems.”
--“Good. I hope you will be able to start tomorrow. You have a long journey to make still and you also don’t know how will be the road ahead after the cyclone.”
--“Yes. That’s a worry. But…”
The man had just started to walk back into the dark. He paused and turned towards me. I could see his intense eyes.
--“…I thought the person who I met at the reception is the owner. I didn’t know you are the actual owner. However, thanks for everything.”
--“Yes, he is my brother. He only takes care of everything since I have become old now. I heard a guest has come to the hotel. So just came to see since my brother is not here. Good luck.”
--“Oh, I see. Good luck to you too.”
The man slowly disappeared. I also locked the doors and was wondering who this man could be. Did he really come to see me in this violent weather?
That night, I couldn’t sleep. Apart from the rain and storm, the mosquitoes too didn’t let me. Just when things calmed down a bit and I could see daylight starting to appear, I quickly had my bath, packed whatever I had unpacked and with a candle as a guide, came down to the reception to check out. I already lost one day and needed to make up as fast as I could.
The supervisor was sleeping in his chair. I called him up to settle my bills.
“How was the sleep? Looks you didn’t have much,” he said.
--“Yes, just like that. Was waiting for morning to leave as fast as possible. I have to travel a big distance still.”
--“Yes, that’s right. I think you can start now. The weather has cleared. I will settle the bills. Just give me five minutes.”
--“Okay. But…”
--“What,” the supervisor looked up at me and asked.
--“Tell me one thing. Does this hotel have two owners?”
--“No. Why? You saw Mr. Senapati. He is the owner himself.”
--“Yes. But I met another Mr. Senapati yesterday night. He knocked my room to see if I was fine.”
The supervisor was more than stunned. “Another Mr. Senapati? Can you describe him?”
Just as I tried to describe the mysterious man I met yesterday night, my eyes fell on a picture on the reception desk. There was a dry garland on it.
--“He is the man I met yesterday,” I almost shouted out of excitement.
The supervisor turned his head towards the photo and said calmly: “He is Mr. Raju Senapati, the elder brother of our current owner. This hotel was set up by him. Last year, he died in an accident while returning home from the hotel during the Cyclone Phailin.”
I had no words. Did he pass away? Then who did I met last night?
The supervisor perhaps read my thought. “Don’t worry. He won’t do any harm to anybody. He was a good man. He loved this hotel from his heart and always looked after the guests, no matter what. I think he came to take care of you out of that affection yesterday as well.”
May be. I didn’t utter any more word. I paid the bills, loaded the luggage into the car, thanked the hotel members and set off for my remaining journey.
As I started the car and looked back to the hotel’s second floor once, I thought a bearded man was standing there, waving his hand at me.
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