Oyo, A Tragedy?
"Where is the hotel?" asked the cab driver
"I think we just crossed it. Can you turn back?" I asked.
I took an Uber from Howrah station to The Diamond Plaza. I arrived at around half past five in the morning, paid the fare, checked my documents in the bag, and hopped out of the cab. The hotel didn't look promising from the outside, nor did I expect it to be one. I needed a place to crash and freshen up for an appointment at 11 a.m. I had been on the train for the past seven hours and did not sleep perfectly.
As I closed in on the hotel doors, I realized they were locked. Locked iron gates in addition to glass doors guarding the reception area. I searched for any other means to enter, and I found one. There was another smaller iron gate - rusted and jammed. I assume the managers would not want guests to proceed through there. I had to get inside somehow; fortunately, I saw phone numbers, three precisely. I called each number a few times; a regular call, followed by a WhatsApp call. No answer. I banged the doors with the hope that maybe, just maybe, someone would come down to allow me in. There were two CCTV cameras, and if we rewind to the morning of 27th May 2022, we will most definitely see a young guy with a backpack doing hand actions to attract attention.
I had already updated my mother on the situation. With no other alternatives left, we both tried different Oyo contact numbers (Oyo is a platform for booking hotels). There was a hotel that shared its wall with the Diamond Plaza, and it was open. I saw a guy walk out, clear the front of the hotel, and go back. Seeing that my mother is having more success than me with the Oyo customer agents, I decided to take a quick look around. I marked the location of the complex where I had the appointment on the map and started walking towards it. There were several tea (chai) stalls on the way, and by several, I mean every other stall. So much tea! From the little round trip I carried, I located a pay-and-use toilet, used a petrol pump's free restroom, and determined that the complex would open around 8 a.m.
At this moment, my brain had shifted its gears to find a hygienic bathroom for daily morning chores. The Diamond Plaza was still closed, and I was not keen to go inside the nearby school (although I had thought to ask the person who came outside to collect milk). So, I had to spend an hour outdoors before heading into the complex. My mind wandered off from this thought as I observed that the phone battery level was 30. I urgently needed to charge my phone. I entered the adjacent hotel to the Diamond Plaza, explained the difficult situation, and asked for a charging point.
"There isn't any here," said the guy
"I can see one behind you. There, on that wall," my voice came out, surprised at his behaviour. I plugged in my phone. I tried to push my luck and asked for a shared bathroom in the hotel. I got a negative reply that all bathrooms are inside the rooms only. I asked if I could rent one room till the checkout time. With another non-affirmative answer, I calmly took a seat on the sofa. It wasn't even ten minutes when he came and asked me to leave. I was again taken aback.
"Did you charge? Please leave the hotel now."
"The level has increased to 37. Can you give me ten more minutes? It will go around 45, and then it can last a little longer?"
"My manager would be irate to see that you have entered and used our resources. We can't just allow any random stranger to come inside. So, leave now." I somewhat understood his concern. However, I was simply shooting darts blindly now, believing one would hit the target.
"Well, you know what happened with me. Please allow me, or let me talk to the manager, and I can explain it. He might allow me to stay as I am not doing anything and just sitting here quietly on the sofa." I was almost in tears at my situation.
"No, please leave."
I simply strode out. Tired of everything being thrown against me, I thought the call I received from my mother would bear some good news.
"What do you mean they can not reach the manager of Diamond Plaza, either? " I asked.
"They also called the available numbers, and no one answered. Let me call them again, and I will set you up somewhere. Don't worry, stay calm. I will find some way out of this." With these uplifting words, my mother disconnected the call. I suddenly remembered seeing a small guest house on my short trip a while back. The guest house was on the third floor. I took the stairs and encountered another iron gate, which was locked.
"Are you kidding me? Seriously, like, what the hell!" I repeatedly moved the lock and made a metallic noise. No one responded as usual. Defeated, I retaliated. Realizing I had no other option than waiting in the now sunny and humid morning, I returned to the Diamond Plaza and called them again a couple of times, all in vain.
"Hello, they have shifted you to another hotel nearby. It's just behind the Acropolis—The Diamond Palace. Whatever we paid while booking the Diamond Plaza will be enough. We don't need to pay anything else. Can you locate it on the map?" said my mother.
"Wow! This is the first good thing in this dreadful morning. I am going there now. I will let you know once I reach there!" I was excited. Even if I reach within 10 minutes, I will have enough time to take a small nap, a bath, and get ready.
But, with my luck, this hotel was also locked! For serious now, why was every door closed to me today? Was this series of unfortunate events the result of a string of bad luck? I had no answer, and I wasn't seeking any. I simply needed a place to brush and then go for breakfast—nothing more!
I knew the drill - I called the hotel, and astonishingly, someone picked up.
"Hello, I just booked a room at your hotel. Can you please open the door?"
"Hi, I do not see any booking on my app. Let me come down."
After reaching the locked gate, he showed his screen, and there was no booking. I shared my booking details. It was an anomaly, and he would only admit me inside once he saw proof on his Oyo app or got confirmation from his manager. My mother, due to her higher success rate, called them again.
"The receptionist isn't opening the gates." My mother, the customer agent from Oyo, and I are on a single call now.
"Madam, we have talked with the manager. He should open up the gates."
"Well, until my son goes inside, you are not hanging up this call!" there was conspicuous anger in my mother's voice. On the other hand, I had accepted that I would be brushing and changing my clothes in a bathroom inside the complex.
"Please talk to your manager. He told Oyo there was no problem, and we have an agent on this call if he wants to talk. Come and confirm from them!" I said to the receptionist.
"Nah, I haven't received anything from my manager, and I won't talk with Oyo people. If you want a room, take a refund from Oyo and book from me. I will give you a room." This is a sign of a smoking businessman. He was smoking a few minutes back, and I could smell the odour on his breath.
"The receptionist is still not agreeing. Please call the manager and ask him to talk with the receptionist" A few moments passed listening to the crappy hold-tune that Oyo had put us on.
"The manager called me, so let me open the doors."
"Finally. Someplace to live for a couple of hours," I presented my identity proof and went to the allotted room. C'est beau? Nope. Removed plaster on walls, the smell of a recently put-out cigar, algae on the ceiling, and torn towels welcomed me to a sweet suite. I laid back for half an hour. I woke up when my father called at 9, freshened up, and checked out of the room at 10.
The rest of the day could have been smoother, but I would not like to detail them. While I was returning to the train, I watched "It's a Wonderful Life," a brilliant movie with a fantastic yet straightforward plot regarding ... Well, let me not spoil it for you, although I would recommend you take a break from your hectic life and appreciate the movie and its theme.
As John Denver sings,
"Some days are diamonds, some days are stones."
Siba Smarak Panigrahi
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