Few years back buying vegetables was one of my daily activity. I used to walk down from my home in Mussoorie in the narrow lanes that seem to go crazy with unexpected ups and downs for about a third of a kilometre.
Our small town of Mussoorie has only about 30,000 people spread in more-or-less a linear pattern aver the hill. There is just one road that runs through the town. In this 4 km run there is hardly any place where it is not lined with shops on either side. For a localite there is something more to it. Walking in front of these shops every single day since childhood, you know everyone and everyone knows you. There are people who smile back at you, some of them wave, there are those who you greet with due respect and there are those who occasionally shout out a "Bai Sahib" or a "Jai Ram Ji Ki" in a typical hilly style. Whatever you do , you just can't escape those eyes.
So, every evening when I walked down from my home to the market, as always, there was a lot of nukkad talk and lots of greetings exchanged. The small distance that it was took me about 15 minutes to walk through till I reached the vegetable store.
Ram Swaroop Babaji runs this small store on the corner of the road. He must be in his seventies and the age is taking it's toll on him. But still, each morning, he takes slow steps from his house and walks to the shop. He waits for the Nepali Bahadurs to come so that they can lift the shutter and arrange the vegetables. After saying a small prayer, he sits on his stool in the middle of the shop.
I usually greet him as "Ram Ram" and he replies with the same words. Both of us smile at each other. Before I start thinking about the vegetables I came to buy, we exchange some casual words about health, politics, religion, and all other types of issues. Standing outside the shop, I kept announcing what I wanted to take that day. Once in a while he used to pick up a seasonal fruit and clean it with his kurta. Meticulously he would cut it and offer to me. With a big smile I took the fruit and enjoyed it while he packaged what I wanted. Sometimes I cribbed over the quality of vegetables and the prices, but he would explain to the problems and the supply chain issues and promise me better deals next time. We bid good-bye to each other and I walked back from his little shop though that crazy road as night fell.
Years later, now in Bangalore I am reminded of those days. Few months back I found my taxable income to be outrageously huge. I am not used to faking bills or make very judicious investments to escape the claws of the tax - collector. In order to bring things in control, I finally decided to say yes to "Food Coupons!". Last week they gave me food coupons worth Rs.3000/-. Before I pulled the first leaflet apart, some thoughts came to mind mind. I started questioning the sanity of giving paper coupons instead of money when it is a well know fact that a person will not eat more or less because of the presence or absence of coupons? Why cant we be given a tax exemption on our salary for a greater amount rather than force us to avail these coupons? I started thinking about the places where we spend these coupons. I started wondering about the number of times we pay extra just because we wish to utilise our coupons. I started thinking about the reasons that are pulling all big companies into organized retail.
It was then that I was reminded of my home town and those streets. I know now, in the little understanding of the world I have, that the Indian Markets are silently dying a slow death!
Our small town of Mussoorie has only about 30,000 people spread in more-or-less a linear pattern aver the hill. There is just one road that runs through the town. In this 4 km run there is hardly any place where it is not lined with shops on either side. For a localite there is something more to it. Walking in front of these shops every single day since childhood, you know everyone and everyone knows you. There are people who smile back at you, some of them wave, there are those who you greet with due respect and there are those who occasionally shout out a "Bai Sahib" or a "Jai Ram Ji Ki" in a typical hilly style. Whatever you do , you just can't escape those eyes.
So, every evening when I walked down from my home to the market, as always, there was a lot of nukkad talk and lots of greetings exchanged. The small distance that it was took me about 15 minutes to walk through till I reached the vegetable store.
Ram Swaroop Babaji runs this small store on the corner of the road. He must be in his seventies and the age is taking it's toll on him. But still, each morning, he takes slow steps from his house and walks to the shop. He waits for the Nepali Bahadurs to come so that they can lift the shutter and arrange the vegetables. After saying a small prayer, he sits on his stool in the middle of the shop.
I usually greet him as "Ram Ram" and he replies with the same words. Both of us smile at each other. Before I start thinking about the vegetables I came to buy, we exchange some casual words about health, politics, religion, and all other types of issues. Standing outside the shop, I kept announcing what I wanted to take that day. Once in a while he used to pick up a seasonal fruit and clean it with his kurta. Meticulously he would cut it and offer to me. With a big smile I took the fruit and enjoyed it while he packaged what I wanted. Sometimes I cribbed over the quality of vegetables and the prices, but he would explain to the problems and the supply chain issues and promise me better deals next time. We bid good-bye to each other and I walked back from his little shop though that crazy road as night fell.
Years later, now in Bangalore I am reminded of those days. Few months back I found my taxable income to be outrageously huge. I am not used to faking bills or make very judicious investments to escape the claws of the tax - collector. In order to bring things in control, I finally decided to say yes to "Food Coupons!". Last week they gave me food coupons worth Rs.3000/-. Before I pulled the first leaflet apart, some thoughts came to mind mind. I started questioning the sanity of giving paper coupons instead of money when it is a well know fact that a person will not eat more or less because of the presence or absence of coupons? Why cant we be given a tax exemption on our salary for a greater amount rather than force us to avail these coupons? I started thinking about the places where we spend these coupons. I started wondering about the number of times we pay extra just because we wish to utilise our coupons. I started thinking about the reasons that are pulling all big companies into organized retail.
It was then that I was reminded of my home town and those streets. I know now, in the little understanding of the world I have, that the Indian Markets are silently dying a slow death!
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The issue you have brought in is of great significance, the beautiful anecdote that you have narrated has am sure touched heart of all those who have read it. Though am quite far from the food coupons and other technical things brought to light in your piece, I must say that the thought behind it is extremely delicate. You know what i feel is like we have all seen a beautiful childhood and are lucky to witness the transition from our patli galiyon to wide highways, from Ram Swaroop Babaji's sabji ki dukan to Reliance Fresh and many countless transitions. But the sad part is even though we cherish those days of carelessly tossing on the roads, the sweet smell of wet earth, the curious eyes to explore every possible thing, to try and cach all insects or bend down on the ground to observe that tiny creature crawling and walking awkwardly towards some undetermined destination.... and i can just go on and on, we hardly do anything to bring back that childhood to life. If I am sounding insane let me tell you that it is all possible, we must just live like a child forever and ever.
It is depresing to see the parents of today who do not let their children step on the ground barefoot, because of fear of infection , who do not let their kids mix up with anyone and everyone due to inhibitions, who kill the curiuosity of their young learning minds by telling them to ignore basic nature (as in do not let them feel a tree trunk- ah an insect may bite them, do not let them play in mud- ah they will get dirty....) . Well life has changed, it has changed a lot and I am one of those who wish that... it had always been the same.