The Great Indian Shopkeeper

I was going to my ancestral place, Bhavnagar, some time back. For people who dont know, its in Saurashtra, Gujarat. I quite frankly admit that it is not the ideal place to have fun, hang out but i never said i went there to have fun. I went there just to meet my grandparents and relax for a while. Now when it comes to a city like Bhavnagar, the word 'relax' is significant. That is because there is nothing much to do out there apart from staying at home. Life there has a remote control where functions like slow-motion, pause dominate invariably.

Anyways, on my way there(i was in a bus), we halted at some dhaba. I was in some desperate need of a cold drink( considering the fact that we hadnt halted for like 3 hours or so) . So I quickly got down and went to buy one.

The shop was a small one with a huge signboard "Goods sold at MRP". The shopkeeper was stout, fat, perfectly bald as if you could light a matchstick by merely striking it on his head. Nevertheless, I went up to him and the following conversation took place:-
[ The conversation was in Gujarati, but since i want my blog to be "Nation" friendly, I'll convert it into Hindi]
Me:- "Boss, ek Thums Up dena". [Please note, "Boss" is a very apt term and a friendly way to address a person you dont know unless that person is a female, otherwise try it out]

Him:- "Kaunsa"?

Me:- "500 ml".
He drew it out from the refrigerator with great pride. I took hold of it only to find it warm.
I asked him eagerly and with anticipation,

Me:- "Thanda nahi hai?".

Him:- "Nahi".
This has been one of the few good qualities about our shopkeepers that i have admired and taken a note of. They talk in monosyllables just like James Bond. They mean business.

Inspired by his monosyllabic ways, I asked him,

Me:- "Kitna?"

Him:- "17". (not in english)
I glared at him. I had it at the back of my mind that the bottle would cost Rs 15. I checked the MRP. I was right.

Me:- "Ismein toh 15 likha hai?"

From here on, he spoke in such hardcore Gujarati, that it is difficult for me to translate. However, I being a Gujarati (not a hardcore one) , was able to make out that inflation and the dhaba being far away from the city were the primary reasons for the "inflation" in the price. I still found the reasons lame, but not wanting to continue to conversation further, I obliged.

I produced a 50 rupee note in front of him which he took with utmost disgrace and aggression. He gave me back 30. Along with that 30 rupees, there was a chcolate, neatly placed on top of the note, which made my mind ponder upon the question, "What is a chocolate doing on top of my Rs 30?" . Without complicating matters further, I promptly asked him,
Me:- "Yeh kya hai?"

Him:- "Chutta nahi hai."
Did he just compensate those Rs 3 with a chocolate??!!

I stood staring at him...

to be continued...

...continued

A new place, new time and completely different circumstances. My mind was at its best(i.e relaxing) during my encounter with the shopkeeper when i was on my way to Bhavnagar. However, presently, it was a different case altogether.

I was at the station returning back home after a gruelling end semester exam. Studies, as usual, had taken its toll both physically and mentally. I had to unwind. And what better way to unwind, at least for now, with a cool and refreshing Maaza!! I went to the typical station shop and asked for the drink.

Me:- "Boss, ek maaza dena."

Him:- " 22". (monosyllables, again)

I was waiting for him to give me the bottle when i realised he was expecting me to pay first and then he'd give me the bottle. Still not wanting to get into an argument with him and just wanting to get a move on in life(yeah the frustration due to studies), I produced a 50 rupee note in front of him.

Him:- " Do rupiya chutta do.

Again, like the last time, i din't have any. The next 'act' of his that was to follow was completely unexpected, unappreciated and bold. Please note here, i have used the word bold. Bold because i can cause some damage if i decide to get hold of somebody. Or rather i 'think' i can 'discipline' (im inspired by john abraham) someone on my day. He put the bottle where it was originally kept and i was not allowed to have that god- forsaken maaza.

One characteristic about these shopkeepers is that they ask for change even when they have 'em. What i fail to understand is what do they do with it ultimately!!

I was in the same position as Bertie Wooster(a character in books written by P G Wodehouse) generally is. Totally pissed off, frustrated still calm and helpless. Keeping my dignity and pride intact, just as i did the last time(did i?), I could have done many things and justice would have prevailed, but i let it pass.