Turkish delight

We took a short trip to the Leela Palace yesterday for coffee and a stroll through the gardens, but completely mis-timed our visit. The place looked like a police training college; dozens of traffic cops and their khaki colleagues all falling over each other in their efforts to look calm, organised and prepared.

"Who's coming?" I asked a plain clothes policeman (who was very obviously plain clothes, and just as obviously police).

"Turkey Prime Minister" he replied.

We went for our stroll and then into the Oxford Book Store for coffee and cakes. Three quarters of an hour or so later we returned to get the car. The place was still swarming with police but I handed the ticket to the valet and he disappeared. No sooner had he done so than somebody shouted something, somebody else blew a whistle and all movement of traffic ceased. Shilpi and Niharika wandered into the main hotel lobby but I stood outside waiting to see what would happen next.

Of course, the first thing was that everybody was moved behind temporary barriers. Figuring that this was probably likely to happen, I'd already moved, but one woman, unaware of what was going on, strolled out into the area where the hotel manager and various other lackeys were waiting to receive their foreign guest.

"Madam, please move behind the barrier" a policeman asked her politely.

"What's all the fuss about?" the woman demanded.

"VVIP visit" said the policeman.

"Well I'm VVIP as well" the woman retorted, (and she might just as well have added, "and what are you going doing to do about that, sonny Jim?" because that was what her body language was saying).

All credit through, to the moustachioed one (the policeman, not the woman). He looked at her appealingly, motioned "wait five minutes" with his hand (an action which involves bringing the four fingers and thumb together in an opening and shutting beak-type movement) and gently ushered her towards where she should have been standing.

Me, I've seen her inflated, self-important type so many times before in Bangalore that I was really hoping the cop would take exception to her rudeness, straighten his moustache and then lathi charge her before beating her to a pulp on one of the Leela's exquisitely upholstered sofas. "Only in fairy stories" as the saying goes.

Anyway, a few minutes later, The Turkish PM and his wife did indeed arrive and the whole place erupted in chaos - policemen rushing forward, Turkish security men rushing forwards and backwards, and Leela hotel staff throwing garlands of flowers around the dignitaries' necks. To be honest, I don't think I've ever seen the Turkish PM before and I certainly wouldn't recognise him again. Shilpi took a photo of his retreating back, but having caused me to wait in the lobby for the best part of half an hour, taking the photo of an anonymous politician - Turkish or otherwise - appealed to me not in the slightest. Nonetheless, I wish him well in Bangalore and I'm sure that he and his wife have already sent a warm glow through certain parts of the city. Indeed, you could almost feel that warmth this morning as motorists sat fuming in their cars, waiting for his cavalcade to pass.

Originally published on Blogger on 24th November 2008.