grooming standards

Grooming at the Taj must be impeccable. Rules and regulations covered two sheets of paper. Here is a sample:

• Hair: “should be neat, pinned back, and no ponytails allowed (I am now a master bun maker!).”
• Fingernails: “should be well maintained and clean. If applied, nail polish should cover the entire nail with no gaps or chips visible. Nails should not be chewed.”
• Hand Jewellery: “must be conservative and elegant. Only two rings are permitted, one on each hand. Rings should be sober, watches should not be flashy.”
• Footwear: “should always be well polished and in good repair. Flat shoes are not permitted; there should be a minimum heel of 1.5 inches (bloody hell!).”
• Toenails: “should be cut short and maintained clean.”
• General Jewellery: “only one set of earrings, not to be dangling. Two thin bangles, one thin neck chain.”
• Make up: “basic makeup is mandatory. A foundation should be used to avoid an oily look (doesn’t do a thing for sweat …); lipstick should be of a matte finish and sober colour; eye shadow should be subtle; eyeliner should be thin, straight (ha!), and applied neatly.”
• Uniforms: “must be immaculate. Saris should be pinned neatly (getting there …), and the hem should not be frayed. The navel must not be visible. Name tags should be shining and prominently displayed.”
• General Hygeine: “perfumes and deoderants should be mild and used sparingly. Legs and hands (!) should be waxed regularly. Teeth should be stain-free with no bad breath; a mouth freshener must be used before coming on duty. Body weight should be within prescribed limit (that’s the end of Indian sweets).”

We are to look, as the Learning and Development manager told me, more groomed and professional than a Jet Airways air hostess. Such stipulations illustrate how seriously the Taj Group treats its success, so I am happy to comply.

Here is my attempt!

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legal action

 Touring the credits department at the Taj, I enquired as to whether clients had to pay for events in advance. The policy, I was told, is to settle finances within the ten day period that follows the function.

 Carefully noting this down, I asked if there was any penalty for not paying.

“Well, not exactly … we do send a 20-day reminder, which helps”.
(Me) “Right, before the booking takes place?”
“No, afterwards.”

The reminder, then, is sent ten days after the deadline.

(Me) “But surely you charge them interest if they are late?”
“Sometimes, yes. We can actually take legal action.”

This was sounding more like it.

“The only thing is that legal cases take ten years to resolve.”

 Another welcome to India moment …

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high on fat, low in fibre

 The one thing I can never find fault with is India’s food. I have been steadily sampling spicy chicken curries, dosa (a wafer thin pancake) stuffed with prawns, idli (a thick, light pancake) dipped in sambar (a spicy, thin vegetable broth), and delicious crumbly sweets.

 It is very difficult to be careful, but I’m rationing hot lunches to one day a week, with salad and fruit for the rest. For breakfast I have only muesli with banana (God bless the English food at the Taj restaurant!), and I no longer snack.  Dinners, however, are more than tempting; their nutrition value being, as one friend aptly put it, “high on fat, and low in fibre”.

 All this equates to an unhealthy, hunger-inducing eating plan. Better sort that gym membership …

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presidential sweet dreams

 I got to view a presidential suite today.

 It was a sweetly perfumed haven of rich, tan panelled walls across fifteen hundred square feet. Two separate lounge areas, a dining table to seat ten, and a pantry for the guest’s private butler (if only …). A personal treadmill with a plasma television at its front, and a bed I could roll over in five times and not fall out of. The daily rate is four times my monthly salary, and rightly so: it has seen both President Bill Clinton and our own Queen Elizabeth.

 Their standard rooms are also world class. Just a few of their complementary conveniences are four chocolate truffles (very important), two different slipper sizes, seven boxed bathroom amenities, a personal weighing scale, and an imposing minibar (with imposing prices).

 My colleague who was showing me giggled at my excitement.
 She explained it perfectly: “What is so strange? It IS Taj!”

 Yes, Taj it is.

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because i love india

 Before I left England, a colleague at the bank queried me about my decision. “You could have gone anywhere, right? So why not Dubai, or the Maldives?”

 My answer was: “because I love India”.

 This morning in my rickshaw, I struggled to remember this. Holding on for dear life (and in great need of a sports bra), all I could smell was petrol, and all I could hear were horns. Dust was in my eyes, I was sweating in just a shirt and my curls had taken on a distinct Planet of the Apes look.

 Arriving more than slightly dishevelled, I was still welcomed warmly. Within minutes of meeting me, one colleague gave me his number and made me promise to call him if I needed anything. Since then, a friend of a friend has helped me to get a mobile connection, and has even bore the (great) pain of shopping for work shoes with me.

 I remembered: this is why I love India.

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