Life never treats everyone the same way. Some are born with everything they'll need, whilst some are left for destiny to give what they need. Everyone might not get everything they want, but life provides enough to live.
She didn't get everything she needed, but she gave me everything I needed. She showed me what I am, what I can be, what I'll be. She never asked me anything, always calm and silent. Unlike others, we didn't have a chance to decide what we both would be. I was her Lakshmi, and she was my Maha.
Hello everyone, today we have Mr. Maha Lakshmi with us. Good evening, sir. Thank you for joining us tonight for the People's Special Show, and thank you for a great start to our show. We were heavily inspired and shaken by everything you told us when we interviewed you previously. I hope you remember your details like fine wine, said the radio jockey into a single mic heard by lakhs of people. This is the first time I am doing this, but this doesn't lay any weight on my heart. To all the questions, I will answer correctly and with real details, irrelevant to future consequences, whether good or bad, and I give a statement that any information said is not for marketing purposes or rating, and I swear on Maha that I will do so. I took the oath.
"Sir, from this, we have understood how much you love Maha. Before we start talking about Maha, who are you, sir?" RJ asked.
"Maha, Mahadev. My mother died giving birth to me. Since childhood, I've always believed that she gave me her life for a purpose. The purpose might be as simple as feeding a homeless person or as big as changing the future of our country. During school days, everyone used to come to parent-teacher meetings with their mother and exceptionally few with their fathers, but I always went to the PTMs alone. Not that my father was a bad father, but since my mother's death, he never came out of the house. Even when he did, it was on her death anniversary. My father had one friend. I wouldn't say friend because, after all he has done for me and Nanna, I consider him my godfather. I never addressed him as Uncle or by any relation name; I always called him Arjun with all due respect, but when I talk about him with others, I never slip my tongue and call him Arjun.
Uncle has a daughter my age, Arya. Since Uncle mostly stayed with us, Arya and I used to get along well, just like Uncle and Nanna. Uncle always used to joke about us getting married, but neither of us took it seriously because of age. I'm not the brightest student in the class, but I never fail to get a remark from the teachers. Two people always used to envy me for that—my best friends, Ramu and Darshi. They envied me for being the one who was able to manage everything, both curricular and co-curricular activities. They might not be the brightest students, but they were the people who had the most general and business knowledge. They were practical, sensible, and crazy. Growing up, I've found love in cooking and writing. These passions got me where I am right now. So this is about me."
I've said this with a proud yet humble smile.
"This is where the real story starts," RJ confirmed to the audience.
"Sir, Maha aka Lakshmi, who is she?" RJ asked.
When I hear her name, there is a confidence that runs through my body, and I'm sure you can see it in my eyes. Maha is my life. I was about 22 years old and had completed my B. Tech, and had just joined a small restaurant as a Jr. Chef. Arya got into software, while Darshi and Ramu started a business by finding a VC who was personally interested in their project. I was the only one who didn't start very well. Two years later, they all grew big, but I was still at the restaurant as a Jr. Chef. Maybe everything was meant to start after her arrival.
Uncle and Nanna asked me to marry Arya. I didn't reply, and they went to Arya. She came to me the next day after they asked about marriage. She took me far from home in car. When we halted at a place, she asked me to step out, and when we did, she pulled my hand and put it on her stomach. I didn't understand the action at first, but then it struck me that she was telling me she was pregnant. I was shocked by the action. I thought of telling her that I had a girlfriend and I wasn't interested in this marriage, but she had other plans. I was at least happy that she was happy about everything in her life, but then I saw her crying. I immediately asked her what happened, and she replied that he wasn't there anymore. I asked her, "He's dead?" She started crying even more and said, "I wish he was dead."
I asked her to tell me what happened exactly so that I could solve the problem, or at least try. She told me that she met him at her office. He was a great man who respected everyone at the office, at least that's what he showed everyone. He made her fall into his trap, and she fell right into it. At first, he showered her with loads of love, and slowly, he started showing his true colors. One day, when she told him she was pregnant, he asked her to abort immediately without even thinking for a second. Then he resigned and started ignoring her.
She first went to the police station, but they asked for her parents to come. She was too scared to tell Uncle and Nanna, and that's when they asked her about the marriage. She told me that she had no interest in living or giving birth to this baby. I asked her to tell Nanna first, but she was very hesitant and started blackmailing me, saying that if I told them, she would commit suicide.
I couldn't believe that Arya was telling me all of this.
I stood outside the car in silence while she was inside the car. When I got back to the car to talk to her, I saw she had cut her wrist and was bleeding heavily. We rushed to the hospital and got her treated. Luckily, she was safe, and it wasn't serious. She had lost consciousness because she hadn't had a proper meal in the past few days and due to heavy bleeding. I was relieved by that information.
When she woke up, the only thing I asked her was to live, at least for the baby.
"Arya, I understand that you can't tell anyone about this, so it's better to move away until the baby is born. I will come with you, anywhere you want to live in this world."
She forced me to decide, and I decided to go to Ooty. Then she asked me for a favor, "Deva, don't tell this to anyone—Darshi, Ramu, or Uma."
I was shocked for two reasons: one was her knowing about Uma, my girlfriend, and two, her calling me Deva.
Nanna told me that my mom always felt she was carrying a boy and used to call me Deva. I am 100% sure that Nanna wouldn't tell anything about Amma to anyone, even Arya. Since childhood, whenever someone called me Deva, I used to scold them for calling me that. So I never heard that name being called by anyone.
Without a second thought, we both left for Ooty immediately after her discharge.
This decision startled everyone close to me, especially Uma. I felt I shouldn't let her suffer for my decisions, but I was in a state where I couldn't tell anyone about anything. Uncle was very worried about Arya, but Nanna always supported him and was very sure that I was with Arya, so he didn't worry about her.
And then, the Ooty story begins.
We left for Ooty in a hurry, so we didn't carry any cash or have any reserves that could help us stay for a year. We went to lodges and stayed there. They were cheap and didn't require any proof of us being married.
Meanwhile, I stepped into every restaurant and café in the lodge's surroundings but had no luck finding a job. She was not in a state to manage herself, so I didn't even ask her to search for a job or go out for fresh air. All she did was stare at the blank walls of the lodge.
One night at the lodge, I saw the manager shouting at someone, complaining that the food was bland and inedible. This was my chance—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get a job in this vast town where I didn't even know the language. I should have chosen a simpler place for us to live, but this was where she could be herself, surrounded by amazing people with the most welcoming hearts.
I went to the manager and said, "Sir, try my food once. If you don't like it, that's fine, but if you do, please give me this job." This was the most I had ever pleaded because I had never begged for anything before—I had always earned it the right way.
The manager angrily said, "Another waste of time! Do I really have to go through this again?"
I confidently replied, "You might have seen people who cook, but I am a chef."
He guided me to the kitchen and asked me to make something using the available ingredients in the pantry. The manager, his assistant, the cook who had made the bland food, and a few customers were all waiting outside for me to bring the food. I knew I had taken a huge risk—I had to satisfy their hunger, the uneasy, angry manager, and the jealous cook.
They had been waiting for the last 45 minutes. Then, I stepped out of the kitchen like a god emerging from the clouds. The kitchen didn't have a proper chimney system to clear the smoke, and none of the vegetables were pre-chopped, unlike in the restaurant where I had previously worked. It took me time to cut everything, sauté the vegetables, and prepare the food to perfection.
As I brought the dish out of the kitchen, its aroma reached their noses before it even touched their lips. The manager's expression softened, and the cook looked completely stunned. I served the manager first, and they split the portion among themselves. I then gave the remaining servings to the customers, who had been waiting patiently.
Everyone took their first bite at the same time. Do you know what the best feeling for a chef is? The look on a person's face when they taste his food. I was overwhelmed by their reactions. The manager almost cried as he ate.
I hadn't prepared anything special—it was our comfort food: Hyderabadi Dum Biryani.
The manager turned to me and asked, "How much do you want? Don't ask for too much; we are already running at a loss because of our bad food. But please stay here—bring back our old glory, the one my father built."
I replied, "Thank you for your generous offer, but—"
He interrupted me, "I want you in this job." He almost begged me to take it and then started narrating the lodge's story.
"Hotel Kailash—this lodge was once a hotel, always filled with tourists. My father, Mahadev, built this hotel for my mother, Umadevi, hence the name Kailash. This hotel meant everything to him. Even my brother and I were named after Lord Shiva's sons, Subramanyam and Mahodara.
Subramanyam studied well, got into a great engineering college, and left for the US to pursue his master's. He never returned to India to live here again. He never liked this hotel much, so he left all of this behind. But I, like my father, loved this hotel to the moon and back.
My father was the head chef. He was a dictator in the kitchen—he demanded discipline, order, and cleanliness. Everyone was scared of him, so they cooked well. He maintained the kitchen with utmost perfection. But one day, he met with an accident on Kalhatti Ghat Road, where his car rolled down into a gorge at the 35th hairpin bend. Both my parents went to Kailasam, leaving me here alone.
I was about 22 years old, and Subramanyam was around 30. He came to India for the final rites. He asked me to sell all the properties here and move to the USA. Despite the childishness in my answer, there was emotion—a bond with this hotel that I could never let go of.
We fought over it, and he decided to take legal action. He met with a lawyer and found out that this hotel was legally written in my name—he had no rights to it. This news made me happy. He left, and since then, we have never spoken.
After my father's death, many people threatened me to close the hotel, or else I would be killed. They also threatened all the junior chefs so that they wouldn't come to work. And just like that, over 20 years, Hotel Kailash slowly became Lodge Kalash. The signboard's 'I' dropped to the ground—just like I did."
"Mahodara Anna, I was about to say, I don't need any huge money. I just need a room to live in this hotel and some money to cover the monthly medical bills for Arya."
He didn't ask me who Arya was or anything else regarding her. Instead, he turned and shouted, "Ey Jeeva! Your job is no longer vacant. You can leave."
Jeeva—the person who had cooked the bland food—lowered his head.
I quickly intervened, "Anna, no one is untalented. They just lack practice. Let him stay. He will learn, and one day, he will meet your standards of taste."
Jeeva ran toward me in tears. "Anna, thank you so much! If not for you, I would've gone back to the slums. I challenged everyone there that I would be successful in life by cooking food. My mother is a cook, Anna. She used to go to different houses, cook for them, and get paid. They always underpaid her for her work. To prove to them that my mother's profession is well-respected and well-paid, I started roaming the streets of Ooty, trying to learn cooking. But no one even let me inside, except for Mahodara Anna. And now, you."
I placed a plate in his hands and said, "Jeeva, can you take this plate to Room 100 and give it to Arya?"
Jeeva wiped his tears and said, "Anna, from now on, don't request me. Order me."
Excitedly, he went to the room. But moments later, I heard him shout, "Anna!"
I ran to the room and saw blood seeping out from under the door. My heart stopped. I pushed the door open and rushed inside. Arya had cut herself again.
We rushed her to the hospital. The doctor looked at me and said, "It seems like she has already attempted suicide before. If this happens one more time, both the mother and the baby won't survive."
Both Jeeva and Mahodara Anna were in shock.
They turned to me, asking, "What happened? Why did she try to take her own life before?"
I explained everything—her story, her pain, and why we had come to Ooty.
After listening to it all, Mahodara Anna placed his hand on my shoulder and asked, "Thambi, what is your name?"
I replied, "Mahadev, Anna."
Tears welled up in his eyes as he said, "I am here for you. I couldn't take care of my father, but now, I have a chance to take care of you. Arya is my responsibility now. Jeeva, stay with Arya at all times. Wherever she goes, you go. Take care of her like your own sister. I will pay you for it. And Maha will teach you how to cook whenever possible."
Jeeva immediately responded, "Maha Anna, I am here with Akka. Don't worry."
Six months into business, Lodge Kalash became Hotel Kailash once again. Mahodara Anna was extremely happy. Jeeva took care of Arya while I cooked. After Arya slept at night, I taught Jeeva how to cook. He was a fast learner and quickly caught up to Mahodara Anna's high standards.
In the mornings, I cooked in the kitchen. At night, Jeeva took over. Slowly, we hired more junior chefs from around the town and restored Hotel Kailash's lost glory.
Jeeva was happier than ever. He was now called "Chef Jeeva", and the people from his slum no longer looked down on him.
"Sir, is Maha your daughter?" The RJ asked.
"Maha, I adopted her."
After everything settled at Hotel Kailash, Arya grew more comfortable. She never attempted suicide again. She became stable—sometimes even laughing at my and Jeeva's lame jokes.
We were all happy.
Until one day.
Arun came to the hotel.
Arun—Arya's ex—walked in with another girl. He booked a room at the hotel.
In all those months Arya had stayed inside, nothing had happened. I wish she had stayed inside that day too.
I had never seen Arun before, and unfortunately, I was the one who welcomed him and gave him Room 101—the room directly opposite Room 100.
Unknowingly, I had made the biggest mistake of my life.
A mistake that cost me her life.
That day, Arya stepped out of her room.
As soon as she opened the door, she saw Arun exiting his room—his arm wrapped around the other girl.
Arya stood frozen.
Arun looked at her—and didn't even recognize her.
Despite the shock, she still walked down and asked me, "Can you take me on a drive through the city? Or maybe a long drive?"
I didn't know she had seen Arun back then, so I was happy to hear she wanted to go out. I informed Mahodara Anna and took her on a drive.
By night, I had shown her the whole town.
Then she turned to me and said, "I want to drive."
I smiled and replied, "If you really want to, and if you can—drive."
She nodded, got into the driver's seat, and asked, "Don't give me any directions. I just want to drive all night."
I didn't question her. I remained silent.
She drove through the Ooty-Masinagudi Ghat Road.
I was exhausted from driving the whole day and working before that. My eyelids felt heavy.
I closed them halfway.
And then—
We flew into the air.
I couldn't react or do anything—I was in shock. Mid-air, Arya spoke, "Deva, I saw Arun." I neither understood what she meant nor was in a state to respond. And then, the car hit the ground.
When I woke up, my entire body was covered in plasters. The pain was unbearable, but nothing hurt more than seeing Jeeva crying beside me. I shouted, "Jeeva, what happened? Where is Arya? What happened to her? Why are you crying?" He didn't say anything—he just shook his head sideways. Tears streamed down my face, and I broke down like a child. As soon as I started crying, I heard a soft, delicate cry—a baby's cry. I couldn't turn my head, but Jeeva stood up, lifted the baby gently, and showed her to me. Through my tears, I gasped, "Thank God! Arya is safe."
Jeeva lowered his head. "Anna… Akka couldn't make it."
Mahodara Anna entered the room just then and asked Jeeva to take the baby to the doctor's cabin. Then, he turned to me and said, "Maha, you are very lucky. If there hadn't been a mortuary van nearby, no one would have saved you." I froze. "A mortuary van?" He nodded. "Both of you were brought inside that van. Arya bled a lot, and you… you were covered in Arya's blood." I couldn't breathe. "The doctors found multiple glass pieces lodged in your body. Those pieces unknowingly stopped you from bleeding out. But the moment they removed them, you started bleeding more than Arya." I could feel my heart pounding. "The baby was immediately taken out of Arya. Neither Arya nor the baby was conscious. All three of you were being treated in the same ICU because that was the only one in the hospital."
I swallowed hard. "And then?"
Mahodara Anna exhaled deeply. "The baby was treated first and survived. But you and Arya—both of you were bleeding heavily and needed a lot of blood. When the doctors tested for donors, they found that both of you had AB-negative blood. No one in town was available to donate at that moment. If they had to bring blood from outside, they would have lost both of you. The doctors told me only one of you could receive a transfusion in time." I choked on my words. "And you chose me?"
He shook his head. "I was in no state to decide, Maha. But then… your hand dropped off the bed and into the baby's cradle. The baby held your hand tight, refusing to let go. The doctors tried to move your hand, but every time they did, she cried uncontrollably." I listened, unable to move. "At that moment, I wanted to tell the doctors to save you. But before I could say anything, they told me Arya's chances of survival were very slim, even with a transfusion. She had already lost too much blood, and due to the complications from childbirth, it was better to save you."
I closed my eyes. Arya had saved my life.
Mahodara Anna sighed. "I once had a friend, Lakshmi who died but her husband and son survived at the 35th hairpin bend of Kalhatti Ghat Road accident. Maybe it was her who saved you."
After two months in the hospital, I was finally able to walk again—limping, using a stick, but at least I could move. The baby was two months old now. I still wasn't able to hold her—one hand was fractured, and the other had deep scars from the accident. When I finally carried her for the first time after another two months, I instinctively called her Lakshmi and whispered, "If it weren't for you, I would've been dead." I kissed her forehead. I was both sad and happy—sad that Arya was gone, but happy that her child was alive. The naming ceremony, which was supposed to happen within the first 10-12 days, was done after 10 months, and I named her Lakshmi.
Two years later, when she started speaking, the first word she uttered was "Lakshmi." She looked at me and called me Lakshmi. From that day onward, I added her name to mine. Mahadev Lakshmi—Mahalakshmi.
Over the years, we built something great. Hotel Kailash flourished. More and more people visited—not just for the stay but also for the food. Mahodara Anna expanded the hotel by acquiring adjacent lands, and in honor of Arya, Room 100 was never occupied again. It was because of this hotel that I was recognized as Chef of the Year.
But before coming to accept the award, I went back to Hyderabad—to meet Nanna and Uncle. I arrived at Uncle's house, but it was locked. Confused, I entered my own home, and what I saw inside shook me to my core. Huge pictures of Uncle and Arya hung on the wall—adorned with garlands. I stood frozen. I had never contacted Nanna—not until now. Nobody in Ooty knew about Nanna. Then how did he know? I turned to him and asked, "Nanna, how do you know? Who told you?" He looked at me, his expression unreadable, and replied, "You only know half of my story."
Epilogue
"Vishnu, shall we go on a long drive? Through the Ghat roads of Udhagamandalam?" Lakshmi asked.
"Lakshmi, you are pregnant. You should be resting. If he finds out that I took you out a week before your delivery, he'll kill me. And stop calling Ooty 'Udhagamandalam.'"
She smiled. "Let's go. I want to show Deva the Udhagamandalam that no one else knows. I will take care of Mahodara Anna."