In magical USA with its Hotels, Motels and Patels

Jumping from city to city performing to full houses be it a 1000-seat theatre or 200-seat school hall across the breadth of USA was one part of our theatre journey about which I wrote in my last article. The peals of laughter were not just heard when we were on stage, some of our experiences were hilarious too which I’d like to share with you today.

Our stay at the various centres was at clean, affordable family-run motels owned by Indians, largely  Gujaratis, famously called HPM’s ('the Hotels, Motels and Patels' of USA).They were patriotic to their motherland as well as their adopted land. Every 'Howdy' was followed by a quick 'Kem Cho'. So much so that their American staff had mastered a few words of Ahmedabadi too! Hearing big Bill, (a 7 footer African American) shout every morning ‘How's it going, bhai? Want some chevda?’ at first shocked but later became a great laugh, specially after some of our troupers had taught them more flowery phrases. They would take us around some tourist spots in their posh limousines.Their Gujju roots once established, no sooner would they switch on the car’s music system. Expecting an Elvis Presley kind of number, we were taken aback when an old  song called “Khoya khoya chand…” starts with Harshadbhai singing along looking  lovingly at his Maniben…truly a forever moment.

In San Francisco we were taken for a drive down Lombard Street, a steep hilly street with beautiful Victorian mansions. The music system started playing “Chal, chal mere haathi…” We all joked and sang along and then suddenly the car lurched and pulled, swerved and pirouetted. Our hilarious star Dinyar told our hosts “Sir,we have to perform tonight on stage, not in heaven”. Little did we know that Lombard is “The Crookedest Street in the World” and one of Frisco’s biggest tourist attractions and were it not for these byzantine curves easing out the treacherous slope one could really be performing in heaven.

New Orleans and we were on a high after a standing ovation. We decided to celebrate at Bourbon Street, known for it’s bars and strip clubs. Largely quiet during the day, it comes alive at night. Listening to street jazz and watching people as they passed by was a treat. Finally we sat in a bar. The bars had exotic names like 'The Cat’s Meow', 'House of Voodoo' etc. We ordered beer, which was served in plastic cups, only the size of each cup was about that of a double pitcher! The bartender lovingly referred to each as “Huge ass”! and said it was the favourite of the tourists. Dinyar, who is huge himself, said the bartender must have made his choice after looking at him. With Dinyar keeping us regaled, it was truly an evening to remember.

In Orlando we stayed at the mansion of a Gujju family who were our host’s friends.Their home was fully protected with extraordinary security measures. After another successful show we returned home, all in great mood and after a sumptuous Gujju meal, we retired for the night. The food was overwhelming for one our stars. To let in some fresh air he opened a window in the room and suddenly all hell broke loose. We were shaken from our slumber with alarm bells and sirens and in seconds the police were at the doorstep! All of us gathered in the living room, at first very worried but on finding the cause, very embarrassed. Yet our hosts took it very sportingly. Needless to say, we  had a hearty laugh – under our blankets. 

We went to many other cities each having it’s own hilarious moments. And as we left Uncle Sam and his imported HPM’s, my moist eyes gave away the fact that I was not just saying goodbye to a most memorable visit to USA but also to theatre for good.

After 40 years of being under the arclights my wife and I had decided to bid adieu to theatre and India and to take our next magical journey of life, in the land of sheikhs and their sheikhdoms. Until next time …..'hey bhai,want some chevda?'

The author is a well-known stage personality