Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Even after hours of thorough planning, assigning work and making sure that everyone is well prepared for the moment, I can sense the mixed emotions.
As much as we try to keep it professional, it's hard to say that we aren't excited at all. We are. When your hotel is where the on paper, most successful IPL team starts it's campaign, you're bound to be excited and a little nervous especially if you're new to the business of hotel management like me.
My friend, Nikhar, would argue that after four years of experience in the field, I should stop calling myself a newbie. But I can't. Old habit of understating things.
"You look a little pale. All good, Kriti?"
I look up to see Mr. Muthuswamy, the hotel owner, closely eyeing me.
"Yes, Sir. Everything is the way it should be and so am I."
"It sure seems to be," he says looking at the preparations - the beautiful and unmissable "Welcome back, Whistle Podu💛" banner hanging right at the reception, my team dressed in yellow, with Divya and Sara ready with the Aarti thalis, our chef, Anna sliding the trolley with the yellovely cake, and finally the head of management standing in front of him. Me. Kritika Pillai who prefers being called Kriti to Kritika.
"Except that you're still worrying about it,"
How can I not? I know that I am being unprofessional but I can't simply silence the Dhoni fan in me. And knowing that he and his teammates will be in direct contact with me for a large part of the next two months is affecting my rationality. I swallow as I say, "I have promised you that I will not let it come in between and it won't-"
"That's not what I meant, you're one of those hard working employees who I'm extremely fond of. Even if you ask him for a picture or an autograph or have an informal chat with him I won't mi-"
"That will never happen, Sir. I have given you my word. My love for the team will not overpower any action of mine."
He chuckles. "Venkateshwara, what do I do with this stubborn girl?" His voice is full of warmth. And that is enough for me to compose myself. I will not let him down.
We hear the whistles. They're here. I nod at Mr. Muthuswamy as he marches towards the entrance. I run my hands through my saree and check the pleats one last time before putting on a small smile on my face.
You can do this, Kriti. You can do this.
The next few moments pass quickly as cheers grow louder with the entry of every player. I nod at each one of them regardless of whether they acknowledge me in return or not.
Here's Curran. Ali nods back. So does Du Plessis. There's Rayudu. Jadeja. I forcefully push their nicknames that threaten to rise on my tongue, back.
Be Professional.
I fight the urge to smile when Chahar enters. Look at Sara! God! She's failing miserably at keeping a straight face. Ah, there's her grin. I sigh.
