Kolkata marketplace

summer particularly not the best time to visit Kolkata but it so happens that I have to invariably accompany my mother who happens to be a school teacher in her free time.

Last time round I did have the previlidge to visit the countryside where my father is currently posted. Accompanying ma was pleasantly eye opening in many ways while I surfed through the streets of Gariahaat, a busy footpath market place which stretches almost 2 kilometers on both sides of the main road just like my streets back home in Mumbai or Bangalore. Hawkers are not just hawking but take a keen interest in building relations with the people walking by. Chatting up all the way to the buyers pocket I must say their ways are quite charming not to forget otherwise it wouldnt have caught my eye. It denotes excellent salesmanship unlike I have seen anywhere in this country. Most bouyant hawkers clan I have ever met where some are taking bath on the foothpath, some are having their meal, some are laughing with the customers and some just passing critical comments on the previous customer just left. My maasi took me and ma for saree shopping to a small arcade where the ground floor in amongst many shops I was taken to a small or say a 10 feet by 6 feet shop. A shop my maasi the way she spoke she exercised a certain degree of ownership. I have been coming here since I got married she exclaimed and the same gentleman has grown old from that time. He is not the usual shopkeeper. He wears a dhoti which is tightly rolled up and sports a cotton half sleeve banyan and doesnt come across as agile at all. He sprang in action as soon as he finished asking about my mausaji's health. Sarees from all over Bengal with different border designs started raining in that tiny shop. That man never tired even if the ladies gave their extremely critical feedbacks. His ferocity increased and he all of a sudden burrowed inside a small shaft right on top of the shop, seemingly like a small godown. He brought down a dozen more to my amazement and in a momeent jumped out of the shop to order for some cool drinks as the ladies surfed through the cotton sarees. After the ordeal got over he was happy to get the hard nosed hard bargain from my maasi to laugh and wave his hand upwards in contentment gesturing that he is more than happy to see us again. A village oldman right in the heart of kolkata and still the same as he was my maasi says when she first met him.

I was taken to the countryside where we also roamed the veg market and experienced the best produce in terms of quality as it comes from the sperm of the gangetic plain as I call it. Undoubtedly an enriching experience as I understood why these fellows crib while roaming the markets in Mumbai or Bangalore. Invariably I will listen my relatives scoff about the local produce here in other cities of India. One guy actually comented on my alphanso mangoes saying he has seen much better back home. I always thought of telling them please get a grip and stop comparing.

For once I have keenly observed and concluded that they were not wrong