After I shifted my residence to a fourth floor apartment in a gated community, I came to know in-depth about the aged and rickety lifts in the building.
On one of the early days of my using the lift that has collapsible type manual doors, it stopped abruptly with a thud between second and third floor, though electricity was available. I carried no mobile, so I pressed the alarm bell. Alas, it was silent. I sharpened my ears like a Sherlock Holmes and hearing some footsteps from the corridor, appealed for help. A man’s voice came over, “The inside door of the cubicle is quite loose. It generally opens while the lift moves and the machine comes to a stop. Nothing to panic. Just reclose the door.” I deemed the voice a divine intervention.
After this incident, I take care to counsel anyone who intends to visit my house that they need not panic if they’re stuck in the lift. I even sprinkle a dose of philosophy, ‘Life is all about opening the inner doors of our hearts,’ inviting cynical looks.
Yet another day, the lift stopped rudely between two floors. I shut the internal door forcefully but nothing happened. As I yelled, ‘I’m trapped,’ a man came and spoke from outside, “There’s a power failure. You’ve to wait.” “But what about generator? I was promised of 24×7 power,” said I. The man replied phlegmatically, “Of course, there’s generator but no diesel. You’ve to stay put patiently till power comes or diesel comes, whichever is earlier.” After ten minutes, the power came first.
On a Sunday morning, there was a continuous stream of people emerging from the lift in my fourth floor. There being only two houses in the fourth floor and with the other flat door locked, I wondered if they all were my unannounced guests and how I’d entertain them. But they cared two hoots for me and climbed the flight of steps leading to the open terrace. I interrupted one of them and queried, “What happened? Who are you all, marching up like army commandos?”
A middle aged woman replied, “We all stay in the next block. Our lift isn’t working. As the terrace of both our blocks are interconnected, we take this lift, walk over the terrace and go down the stairs in our block. By this method, we expend less energy than taking the stairs in our block.”
There comes an automated announcement from the lift in a lady’s voice, ‘Please close the door’ if any of the inner or outer cubicle door is open in any floor. Due to the fragile nature of the doors, we get this audio message so very often that if someone opens the door of my flat, I start parroting, ‘Please close the door.’
After weighing all the pros and cons, I’ve decided to walk the entire flight of steps both up and down and that’s the best exercise I can think of to keep me fit. Now after considerable practice and panting, I’m able to ascend without much bother and this realisation has really lifted my spirits in no small measure.
