Stellar Saturdays

I’m not gonna start off with “Thank you!” or “It’s been such an amazing week.” since we’ve done it too much already. If you really like the blog and want to support us, do hit the follow button and like us on Facebook. We’ll  love you forever.

The responses we’ve received for Saturday posts has been overwhelming to say the least. We have received so many amazing, top-notch pieces that we couldn’t accommodate all of them today. Fret not, next Saturday is your day.

First in today’s lineup, we have artwork submitted by someone with truly gifted hands. Samyuktha Madhu is an extremely talented artist who is currently studying design and technology at Parsons School for Design, New York. She is known for her amazing art work and her quirky sense of style. We are so glad to have her posting her artwork on our blog, thank you Samyu!

Isn’t this amazing?

A portrait of herself done on canvas using acrylic paint.

Diversity obviously isn’t a problem.

The Seven Deadly Sins.

Done using water colour.

Next we have Rijul, a student of Performing Arts in Christ University. He has a few poems he’d like to share.

Duly Noted

that sore feeling. that bowling lane that’s got your name all over it.

you’re a pin, you’re the ball, you’re the gutter.

you’re in the gutter.

strike!

no, fooled you. It was just a spare. spare change will make me beautiful.

hallowed be thy name.

slowly, but surely, you will drift into a relationship that will haunt you. Look at the moon.

No, really look at the moon.

Breathlessness. Velocity. It’s all happening.

When do you stop? When does it stop?

Cramming in every little dew drop, sloppiness is the room’s grunge.

Great fortune. Mighty despair. Kill a whale.

Fortissimo! Fortissimo!

Heading down. Lower. Lower. Now I can see you and only you for miles and miles.

You’re all I see. That’s you, playing with my horizon – it’s now a yo-yo.

Swing, swing, swing swing swing, everybody likes to swing.

This part’s the groovy bit. It’s like chocolate ivy

Green and timely,

Spicy spicy, it’s Morgan Wriley,

It’s check and time me,

I’m running fast. I’m clocking.

Look ma, Look. So fast.

First place. No, not first place?

Why? Why not?

This is when things get icky.

So residual lives. Residual lives. We’ve hit rock bottom.

My dregs, O my darling dregs.

How I have missed thee.

Conversations with self, duly noted.

Hopeful

Sometimes I think I confuse myself just to cheat my destiny.

Maybe I’m destined to avoid my destiny.

Crappy things no longer clutter my mind.

Only pastures.

But bountiful pastures without mouths to feed become barren as time goes by.

This is why I speak, this is why I seek.

Without my words and thoughts, my fields would roam between sky and sea, and remain uprooted until I return as a bird, motherless, so secure, so pure.

Do as you please, keep me waiting.

I can wait for as long as you can search for me.

Granted, I know that you’re on your way.

Draw me the map I was born with. It’s on my palm.

Assume there is no body, now you must drink that which has a shape.

Once stomached, you will be answerable to nobody.

                                                                        Rijul Ray

Last but certainly not the least, we have Meghana who is a Journalism student at Christ University. She has also submitted a poem.

Truth be told

Dare i bear witness

to my past

to hope a bit

towards my future?

to erase the black

lines in the sand

to be granted “amnesty”

to etch lines of

gold in the sacred

stones that rule life?

There are skeletons in

everybody’s cupboard

that are best

left untouched

who knows how

they even got there

bearing a secret

of ironic shame

or perhaps of

a promise to

be kept and

taken to the grave

Sleep well ‘o’

ghostly ones

with grim smiles

for though shan’t

be disturbed

from thy eternal

sweet slumber

which thee chose

to escape the

world’s sorrows

In the end of

all life and living

it’s only you

who stands alone

as the scales tip

towards the road

you’ll have to

take for your

“PRESENT STORY”

to end at last.

Meghana Ravichandran

That’s all for today, my lovely fruits! If you want to see your work up on the blog like this, all you have to do is send it to us. If you have feedback for the featured contributors, just send in a mail and we will surely get back to them.

The Suite Life: The Boons and Banes of Growing Up in Hotels

If ever there was a constant in my life since I began remembering, it is hotels. Having a parent and other members in the family in the hotel industry means a whole different perspective on hotels and the way they work. To me a hotel isn’t just about ‘that one time we stayed in this place when we were in that city’. To me, hotels are home.

My father joined the hotel industry before I was born. In fact, my parents met at the hotel my dad was working in, and thus began my life journey. Or maybe it began like a couple of years after that.

I think the greatest gift a hotel can give you are the people you meet. Hotels mean job transfers and my family was always moving around a lot. We did Delhi, Bangalore, Mumbai, Nepal and Kerala and some of the cities we did twice each. The people we met taught me a lot because I’ve laughed with them, cried, partied and worked hard and each of them brought something new to the table. The fun bit is that while many of them are part of the industry themselves, there are also tons of guests from different corners of the world who have such fascinating things to talk about. They told me about the food and drink, the music, the people and of course the sights I ‘must see’ when I visit, all of which have simply fed my urge to travel the world and write about all the aforementioned things.

There is no end to learning each day. Hotels have given me an extensive training in various cuisines, beverages [alcoholic and non], business operations, housekeeping, interior design, management, how to conduct polite conversation as well as basic finances and budgeting. Yep. I’m a ninja.

The hotel that taught me most is definitely The Leela Kovalam Beach in Kerala. It was my home for five years and has given me family, friends, and is what sparked my passion for hotels.

The Leela Kovalam Beach, Kerala

There are of course a couple of rules if you’re living in a hotel which were made absolutely clear to me and a lot of them were broken, along with which lessons were learned:

1. No screaming like hooligans. Especially at wee hours of the morning down the hotel corridors because the CCTV cameras can see you. *cough*

2. Guests come first. It’s okay if they cut in line at the buffet because they’re paying for it and we need them to visit again rather than complain about a rude kid glaring at them.

3. No romance with the hotel staff. EVER.

4. You cannot skinny-dip in the pools, even if you took a shower before.

5. Don’t laugh at guests in ill-fitting bikinis/speedos.

6. Know your cutlery.

There are more but I think there’s too many to list here.

Moving away from The Leela Kovalam really did break my heart, but considering how much I visit I don’t think they’ve realised I left.

There’s something about a hotel that I just can’t get over. The smell of freshly laundered sheets in the rooms, the soft chatter of housekeeping staff on their break, the pain and details that go into the set-up of cutlery and crockery at each restaurant before a meal, the silence of the carpeted corridors, symmetrical flower placements… Things that guests usually miss but are so much a part of a hotelier’s life.

My father works with the Mövenpick Bangalore now and though it’s a very new hotel in India, it is one of the loveliest I have ever seen.  My fellow bloggers and I had the Brunch this last Sunday and it was like angels themselves had decided to make the food. A tour of the hotel followed by a game of pool and a cappuccino at the sports and music bar, Obsidian, was the perfect ending to our day and just made me feel better about life. The hotel is young, fresh and the staff are friendly and always have smiles on their faces. I thank my lucky stars every day for being able to visit such beautiful places.

Obsidian @The Mövenpick Bangalore

I chose to write about hotels for my first post because I wanted to share something that is personal to me and a big part of who I am. Hotels make me feel like I belong, but they are not without their problems. I always have to be aware of how I behave or how I look when I am in hotels because being part of a hotelier’s family means no slip-ups. The hotels I’ve lived in have always been outside the city and rather far from where my friends lived, and a lot of the time it would hurt because I couldn’t spend time with them. Also, the moving around means I have been to 11 different schools and it was very difficult to form solid friendships. Most of my friends wouldn’t visit because of the distance and I remember going for walks on the beach alone thinking why it had to be this way. There was also talk of some parents referring to me as ‘that hotel girl’, which made me feel angry and push people away further because they misunderstood me and they misunderstood the hotel. While it was lonely at times, my hotel-family more than made up for it. It truly is the greatest gift my parents have ever given me. Other than my brother, of course.

I admit hotels are often linked to sex, parties and other strange and crazy things happening behind the closed doors, but they are so much more than that. They are places where people get married, start new journeys, meet new people/celebrities and have the most beautiful moments of their lives.

Before this gets too long, I want to end with a quote about hotels that has always been my favourite:

“I was fascinated by the nature of hotels, where humans spend often significant portions of their lives, but have all traces of their tenancy removed for the next guest.” – Moby [Musician]

And at the end of the day, I wouldn’t change a thing.