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the-south-asian.com September 2000 |
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Page 2 of 3 RAI BAHADUR M.S. OBEROI A Century Of Hospitality
In desperation Mohan Singh wrote to a friend, a clerk in the Public Works Department [PWD] in Simla asking him if he could come and try his luck in a government job there. In 1922, leaving behind his wife and daughter, the 22-year-old Mohan Singh arrived in the glittering summer capital of the Raj. He wrote an exam for the post of a lower division clerk in the PWD department. The examiner failed him. Without realising it the department had lost one of the most enterprising men of modern India. Shattered by the result, Mohan Singh went for a stroll on the Mall. And once again he saw another building that transfixed him. It was the imposing nine-storeyed Hotel Cecil considered by the burra sahibs as the best this side of world. Mohan Singh had missed seeing the inside of Flashmans in Rawalpindi. He was not going to let go of the opportunity this time. But more than just seeing the hotel, he wanted a job there as well. The determined young man pushed the glass door open and walked inside the lobby. He went straight to an imposing Englishman and said, " Sir, I am on the look out for a career in the hotel industry. I'll do any kind of a job here." Ernest Clarke looked at the smartly turned out young man and said, " We have a vacancy for a clerk to look after the hotel's coal supply. The pay is Rs. 50 a month. Interested?" Mohan Singh Oberoi that day took his first step towards his ultimate dream - the hotel industry. He rented a one-room tenement near the hotel and began his work in right earnest. Expected to be at his job at 4 a.m. Mohan Singh was usually there two hours before the appointed time to see that everything was in place and the coals burning so that every guest in the hotel would get hot water by the time he or she got up. Admiring the spirit of the young man and patting himself on the back for his choice, Clarke decided to put the man's abilities to better use. He re-read his bio-data and realised that the coal clerk was proficient in typing and shorthand. The next morning Clarke upgraded Oberoi to the post of a guest clerk and hiked his salary by Rs. 10 to Rs. 60 a month. A few weeks later fate showed its hand again in favour of the man obsessed with his job. On a windswept winter morning in 1925 there was an unusual flurry in the hotel. Clarke called Mohan Singh and told him to ensure that everything was spick and span. The reason : India's formidable barrister, Motilal Nehru was coming to stay at the Cecil. The distinguished guest checked in and was soon on his way to the court. That evening when he returned he headed straight to the guest clerk and asked him if there was anyone in Simla who could type a hundred pages by 5 a.m. the next morning. The clerk surprised the senior Nehru with his answer: " I'll do it Sir." At exactly 4.45 a.m. Mohan Singh politely knocked at Motilal Nehru's door and handed him a wad of typed sheets. The barrister took over an hour to read them. After that he got up, embraced Oberoi and slipped Rs. 100 in his hand. There was not one mistake in the manuscript! The young man virtually galloped to his shanty tenement and pulling his wife out headed straight to the market and bought new blankets to replace the tattered ones. The children---by now two- --Rajrani and Tilak Raj (Tikki) also got new clothes.
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