Hotel Madhuli

Hotel Madhuli sits right there in Athwa Mali Ali near Swami Samarth. It’s not really a hotel where you sleep, just a place to eat. I wake up early to get the stove going. The smell of the kitchen starts to fill the room before the sun is even up properly. I spend a lot of time at the sink because there are always pots to scrub. The tables are wooden and they’ve seen better days, but they are sturdy enough. People come in for a quick bite and they don't stay long. Most of them are working nearby and just want their food fast. I try to keep up with the orders. Sometimes it gets a bit chaotic when the lunch rush hits. My hands usually smell like onions or spices by the end of the shift. The walls were painted blue a few years back and they’re starting to peel near the ceiling. I put up a calendar from the local bank to cover one spot that looked bad. It’s a simple routine. Chop, cook, serve, wash. I like it when the regulars come in because I don't have to ask what they want. They just sit in their usual chair. The area of Swami Samarth is busy, but our little corner feels okay. It’s just hard work and long hours, but it pays the bills. The ceiling fan makes a clicking sound that bothers me sometimes.