“We get better grapes than these for half the price in Nasik, you know?” said the lady smugly. And pat comes the reply from the shopkeeper, “Why don’t you buy them from Nasik then?” The woman continued, “Your veggies are overpriced too.” The shopkeeper blew his top, “These are the best bhindis in the market madam. And the lauki too. But you will come here, break off the tips of several bhindis, pierce the tender lauki with your nails, tell me my grapes are “khatta” and then move on without buying anything from here. This is a free market madam. You can buy things from any shop here. But don’t pass nasty comments. I don’t have to listen to them. You know why? Because you are not even my customer. Just leave from here in peace.”
Five minutes later….
Yes. We had a rough day today. The BMC was here and then our truck got delayed. We have already lost 4 hours of business. And then this lady turns up and passes comments. “Dimag garam ho jaata hai. Hum bhi insaan hai.” But I know her. People like her will never change their ways. What else would you like to buy from here?
∞
“Didi, Aap aate ho na, to meri dukaan me bahaar aati hai!” Says the dhaniya wala bhaiya. The lady smiles at him and says, “Acha? I’m sure you say the same thing to all your customers.” Another man standing near his stall says, “You are right. He really does that. He told me the same thing yesterday!” But he is such a cheerful and genuine fellow. So we feel like buying things from him, don’t we?
“I saw something in your bag. You were hiding it from me, weren’t you?” said the bhaiya. “Kya dekha aapne?” said the lady. “I saw the bunch of coriander in your bag. I did see it.” said the bhaiya. “Arre bhaiyaji! It is a bunch of curry leaves. Not coriander. And next time I buy coriander from elsewhere, I will hide it properly in my bag before I come to your shop to buy adrak mirchi!” said the lady. “You can’t do that to me. I know you won’t do so.” Said the bhaiya. The lady paid him and left the shop with a smile that lingered on her face for a long while.
∞
You just do as I say. These are first quality figs. You will not find figs like these anywhere in the market. I can’t afford to give it to you at a lower price. You carry two shoulder bags with you every day. But then sling all your fruits and veggies in these bags around your fingers. Use those shoulder bags. Open them. Let me put the figs in them. You’ll come back for more next time. That much I know. What else would you like to buy? Ha. I can’t do dadagiri on all my customers, can I? Yes, you are right. Most customers are rude and impatient. But I have a business to run. So I have to control myself and negotiate a bit with them. But I reserve my best fruits for a few select customers, you know. They value quality over price. And they deserve the very best. Now go home. Eat the figs and tell me if they were good quality, okay?
∞
“Today, I will buy all my vegetables from you. But I will pay you Rs.30/- less. I went home and checked the total for last week’s vegetables that I bought from you. You have charged me Rs.30/- extra.”
“These were the five items that you bought from me last week, right? I gave you 600 grams of carrots and charged you Rs.20/- for the beetroots that you bought in the end. Did you add that to your total? You didn’t know that you had more than 500 grams of carrots, did you? Is the total right now?”
“Oh! I didn’t know the carrots weighed 600 grams and I did forget about the beetroots. But I have not yet used the cucumbers that I bought last week. If they turn out to be bitter, I will not pay you for them. Just remember that much.”
“And if after a week, they turn out to be sweet and crisp, will you pay me more?” asked the shop keeper. The lady just muttered under her breath and bought whatever she wanted quietly after that.
∞
“My wife is mad. She will buy whatever she wants at whatever price you quote in your shop without checking the price in other shops. Green garlic sells for Rs. 60/- for 250grams elsewhere. And here you people are charging Rs.80/- for 250 grams. Who will buy stuff from your shop if you fleece your customers like this?”
“O mere bhai, let me inform you about the market. There are 4 qualities of garlic available in the market. We sell the best quality garlic here for this price. Let me offer you a deal. Please buy me one kg of green garlic, have a good look at this quality first, @ Rs.60/250 grams. I will pay you for your petrol expenses. And share the profit with you too if you can get it for me at this rate here.”
“Don’t give me all this nonsense about 4 different varieties of garlic. Garlic is garlic after all. It tastes the same. I am not going to buy my vegetables from rude shopkeepers like you. Keep your garlic with you. I will buy it from a place where it is cheaper and better than this.”
The shop keeper looks at his colleague and says, “Saala, paise ke peeche biwi ko bhi gaali deta hai. Kaisa aadmi hai!”
∞
Yes, I heard you. I know I have to take a right turn from here. Why are you shouting? I can hear you. And do I look like your “Kaka” to you? You are in your fifties. I am in my fifties too. Don’t you see the face of a person before you call him “Kaka”? And you think I am deaf too. You want me to stop here? Here take your change. And next time onwards look at a person before you address him as “Kaka”.
“Sorry bhaiyaji.” Said the lady.
“So easy no? Make a mistake and then say sorry. How will you feel if I call you “Dadi”?” Go now.
∞
“Don’t fret about that man, didi. He is young. He can wait for the next rickshaw. You are much older than him and you have four heavy bags in your hands. He will get a piping hot meal when he reaches home. But you have to go home, sort out all this stuff and then cook for your family too. That is why I asked you to get into my rickshaw first.
Yes, I earn a decent living in Mumbai. You know, my neighbours pass a lot of comments because I help my wife with all her household chores. We have to fetch water from a common source which is outside our house. The water supply comes in the afternoons in our area. So I start plying my rickshaw only after I stock all the water in the house. How can my wife manage all this by herself? She has to take care of our kids too. I respect her a lot. She takes very good care of all of us.
No, didi. It is not rare to find people like me. Men need to respect women. It does not matter whether they are working at home or outside the home. They too work as hard as we men. It’s just that they don’t earn money for the work that they do. But we can’t measure everything with money, can we? Yes, it was nice to talk with you too. Go with a light heart now. You have a long evening ahead of you.
∞
The heat, the dust, the filthy roads, the potholes, the open sewers, the humidity, the endless traffic, the non-stop honking, the loudspeakers, the temple bells, the azaan, the animals all over the roads and pavements, the hawkers who sell everything from key chains to imported clothes, the ever jostling crowd, the overcrowded markets….Mumbai beats the living daylights out of us.
Yet Mumbai has a soul. It welcomes people from all walks of life. In Mumbai, it does not matter whether you are a crorepati or a roadpati. Everyone gets the same treatment everywhere. Maybe, maybe that is what makes Mumbai so different. It punctures our ego, keeps us grounded and also warms the cockles of our hearts for yeh hai Mumbai, yeh hai Mumbai, yeh hai Mumbai meri jaan…