So I thought I’ll walk back from the gym today… and I am real glad that my momentary laziness did not overcome the instinct this morning.
Before I tell you why… allow me to tell you about Mumbai this Jan (so far) – the coolest I’ve ever felt in the last 5 years, balmy, nice & crisp sun, the festive month having left behind some tantalizing hues & fragrances – colors & lights on the buildings and fences; busy bakeries; brisk business at the local shops, mobile nurseries on the ‘thelas’ – a veritable havoc of colors in winter chrysanthemums and daisies; roads that never cease being bulldozed through & reconstructed. May be it’s always been like this, may be it’s Bandra that manages to manifest all this far more visibly… or is it just Me caring to stop by, far more patiently, paying my surroundings their due attention, re-learning wonderment and thankfulness for little things, registering that the old system still lives on in parallel and if at all, far more connectedly.
Don’t be amused by the cliché of the parallel old system – what I mean is that the nukkad ke dukaans, the kabaadiwala round the corner, the one of the many ‘fancy furnishings’ that sells just about every item & service to cushion & bolster our lives continue to exist. Nothing, almost nothing has changed. So why is it filling me with wonderment… certainly because people like me have got used to a whole new system termed ‘convenience’ - arty boutique chains that customize expensively or malls that provide ready-mades at one swipe of the plastic.
Let me explain by reviving the story I began with. I was walking back from the gym … I simply felt like…first stop, American Express Drycleaners – I dumped off the jackets & clothes long awaiting their submission for this ritual. For the uninitiated, this is the one Dry - cleaning setup (in the Mum suburbs at least) that ‘proudly’ does not cater to the working-couple lot. Shocked! How could they be if the timings are from 8 am - 12 noon and 5 - 7:30 pm in the evening during week days and Closed on Sundays. Tell me - how many self-respecting working couples will want to be seen there while continuing with their jobs! So their services are left to the older neighborhood Uncles & Aunties, homebodies and now people like me ‘on a break’!! he he..!!
That accomplished I walked on to the banana reriwallah and rewarded myself with a couple of them- at 15% cheaper than Patels and consumed my quota of one banana after weight training. The pleasure of dumping the peel in the ‘kachre ka gaadi’ standing right next to it was also unforeseen but that’s not why I started writing this post.
Chugging along happily, I found what I’d been looking for since a fairly long time in Bandra – the kabaadiwallah. Pardon me for going anecdotal again but this is a fond memory from all those growing up years. My dad, a perfectionist in many ways, used to religiously stack up the daily newspapers in one dumping corner and right before the stack would become higher than ‘a stack 6/7 bricks or so’, in would come the familiar kabaadiwallah on his cycle and after his bit of negotiation with the in-house veteran, pay the money which would be carefully put into some additional kharcha for the house. This tradition continued after I moved to Mumbai. More for the lack of knowing any other way of disposal. But then I met my husband and I was introduced to this whole new system. He has this maid (Vanita, rather the lady of the house), who would unceremoniously stack away the daily reads and one fine day, on return from work, I would find the stack cleaned out. On enquiring my husband gleefully explained ‘Yes she takes care of the kabaadi…’ almost thanking his stars!! ‘What about the money?’ ‘Don’t know… never asked’ and meaning I don’t care!! What stuck me was the sheer difference between these two men in my life (or rather these two generations), the difference almost in ideologies – one methodical and obsessive value for every penny; the other unmethodical… uncaring about any price they pay for it to look ‘in order’. In this case, resultantly a house-maid taking the master for granted.
However, this musing is not about which of the two is better but today I found which of the two I am truly comfortable with. My Dad’s way!! I have been uncomfortable about this practice of Vanita’s and today’s chancing upon the kabadiwallah was a sure endorsement of the way I would want it to be.
So here I was chatting up the shop-owner. You would wonder – educated, English-spoken, visiting card–tottering and true to his promise – ‘Kabhi bhi zaroorat ho phone kar dena’. The boy was at my door to collect the old stacks at 12 noon, on the dot!! Mind you, far more efficient than my Dad’s times, perhaps.
Hey, I made my salary for the day of Rs.97 (minus 2 rupees as tip). And I realised that I’d much rather tip a kabaadiwallah than have my maid audaciously tip herself, at my cost!
I carried on through the narrow winding lanes of Bandra Village to find some more useful answers to some of my recent pre-occupations. ‘Fancy Furnishings’ in the corner being one and they re-defined customer service for me. One of their boys accompanied me to my home with a measuring tape to measure, assess & do the needful. And he’s said he’ll deliver at home before end of day, at my doorstep. Spotlight on you Zeba, Fab India- why do I pay you the premium for all that you don’t offer, why do I continue to patronize you when unlike this guy, I have to follow (up) with you to even receive delivery of an item that I’ve already paid for, why do I get caught in the pseudo-thrill of being able to say ‘I bought it from Fab…or ’.
The answer is simple…because me, like my husband and many others, have become unmethodical, less obsessive for value, more uncaring, less respectful of things we had, and things our parents valued.
The corner shop too is selling 'convenience', but he's no longer in my consideration set for lifestyle decisions.
And a lot of this is because we are not stepping out any more, everyday, day after day, we are passing by life from behind the shaded, soundproof glasses of our Hondas & Toyotas. To and fro our workplaces. Our hatchbacks have graduated to sedans; our salaries have graduated from 5 figures to 6 or 7; our world-view has become limited to aircrafts, reams of newsprint and 24X7 news channels; holiday destinations are no longer popular but off-beat, even New Year celebrations are quaint, quieter, with select few. What is the potential of encountering, relating, connecting?
It came to me how some people I admire would incessantly nag – ‘ know your clients client’, ‘go do market visits’, ‘go to Nehru Place and talk to the channel guys, ‘go talk to the autowallah and the pan beedi shop owner’. Somehow incongruously the commercial ‘Life’s calling you…’ flashes in my mind. The boy dragging himself away from his computer screen looks out of the window to find life… the real life taking place outside, beckoning…!
Like the boy in the ad, I think I’m going to listen to this beckoning…
Before I tell you why… allow me to tell you about Mumbai this Jan (so far) – the coolest I’ve ever felt in the last 5 years, balmy, nice & crisp sun, the festive month having left behind some tantalizing hues & fragrances – colors & lights on the buildings and fences; busy bakeries; brisk business at the local shops, mobile nurseries on the ‘thelas’ – a veritable havoc of colors in winter chrysanthemums and daisies; roads that never cease being bulldozed through & reconstructed. May be it’s always been like this, may be it’s Bandra that manages to manifest all this far more visibly… or is it just Me caring to stop by, far more patiently, paying my surroundings their due attention, re-learning wonderment and thankfulness for little things, registering that the old system still lives on in parallel and if at all, far more connectedly.
Don’t be amused by the cliché of the parallel old system – what I mean is that the nukkad ke dukaans, the kabaadiwala round the corner, the one of the many ‘fancy furnishings’ that sells just about every item & service to cushion & bolster our lives continue to exist. Nothing, almost nothing has changed. So why is it filling me with wonderment… certainly because people like me have got used to a whole new system termed ‘convenience’ - arty boutique chains that customize expensively or malls that provide ready-mades at one swipe of the plastic.
Let me explain by reviving the story I began with. I was walking back from the gym … I simply felt like…first stop, American Express Drycleaners – I dumped off the jackets & clothes long awaiting their submission for this ritual. For the uninitiated, this is the one Dry - cleaning setup (in the Mum suburbs at least) that ‘proudly’ does not cater to the working-couple lot. Shocked! How could they be if the timings are from 8 am - 12 noon and 5 - 7:30 pm in the evening during week days and Closed on Sundays. Tell me - how many self-respecting working couples will want to be seen there while continuing with their jobs! So their services are left to the older neighborhood Uncles & Aunties, homebodies and now people like me ‘on a break’!! he he..!!
That accomplished I walked on to the banana reriwallah and rewarded myself with a couple of them- at 15% cheaper than Patels and consumed my quota of one banana after weight training. The pleasure of dumping the peel in the ‘kachre ka gaadi’ standing right next to it was also unforeseen but that’s not why I started writing this post.
Chugging along happily, I found what I’d been looking for since a fairly long time in Bandra – the kabaadiwallah. Pardon me for going anecdotal again but this is a fond memory from all those growing up years. My dad, a perfectionist in many ways, used to religiously stack up the daily newspapers in one dumping corner and right before the stack would become higher than ‘a stack 6/7 bricks or so’, in would come the familiar kabaadiwallah on his cycle and after his bit of negotiation with the in-house veteran, pay the money which would be carefully put into some additional kharcha for the house. This tradition continued after I moved to Mumbai. More for the lack of knowing any other way of disposal. But then I met my husband and I was introduced to this whole new system. He has this maid (Vanita, rather the lady of the house), who would unceremoniously stack away the daily reads and one fine day, on return from work, I would find the stack cleaned out. On enquiring my husband gleefully explained ‘Yes she takes care of the kabaadi…’ almost thanking his stars!! ‘What about the money?’ ‘Don’t know… never asked’ and meaning I don’t care!! What stuck me was the sheer difference between these two men in my life (or rather these two generations), the difference almost in ideologies – one methodical and obsessive value for every penny; the other unmethodical… uncaring about any price they pay for it to look ‘in order’. In this case, resultantly a house-maid taking the master for granted.
However, this musing is not about which of the two is better but today I found which of the two I am truly comfortable with. My Dad’s way!! I have been uncomfortable about this practice of Vanita’s and today’s chancing upon the kabadiwallah was a sure endorsement of the way I would want it to be.
So here I was chatting up the shop-owner. You would wonder – educated, English-spoken, visiting card–tottering and true to his promise – ‘Kabhi bhi zaroorat ho phone kar dena’. The boy was at my door to collect the old stacks at 12 noon, on the dot!! Mind you, far more efficient than my Dad’s times, perhaps.
Hey, I made my salary for the day of Rs.97 (minus 2 rupees as tip). And I realised that I’d much rather tip a kabaadiwallah than have my maid audaciously tip herself, at my cost!
I carried on through the narrow winding lanes of Bandra Village to find some more useful answers to some of my recent pre-occupations. ‘Fancy Furnishings’ in the corner being one and they re-defined customer service for me. One of their boys accompanied me to my home with a measuring tape to measure, assess & do the needful. And he’s said he’ll deliver at home before end of day, at my doorstep. Spotlight on you Zeba, Fab India- why do I pay you the premium for all that you don’t offer, why do I continue to patronize you when unlike this guy, I have to follow (up) with you to even receive delivery of an item that I’ve already paid for, why do I get caught in the pseudo-thrill of being able to say ‘I bought it from Fab…or ’.
The answer is simple…because me, like my husband and many others, have become unmethodical, less obsessive for value, more uncaring, less respectful of things we had, and things our parents valued.
The corner shop too is selling 'convenience', but he's no longer in my consideration set for lifestyle decisions.
And a lot of this is because we are not stepping out any more, everyday, day after day, we are passing by life from behind the shaded, soundproof glasses of our Hondas & Toyotas. To and fro our workplaces. Our hatchbacks have graduated to sedans; our salaries have graduated from 5 figures to 6 or 7; our world-view has become limited to aircrafts, reams of newsprint and 24X7 news channels; holiday destinations are no longer popular but off-beat, even New Year celebrations are quaint, quieter, with select few. What is the potential of encountering, relating, connecting?
It came to me how some people I admire would incessantly nag – ‘ know your clients client’, ‘go do market visits’, ‘go to Nehru Place and talk to the channel guys, ‘go talk to the autowallah and the pan beedi shop owner’. Somehow incongruously the commercial ‘Life’s calling you…’ flashes in my mind. The boy dragging himself away from his computer screen looks out of the window to find life… the real life taking place outside, beckoning…!
Like the boy in the ad, I think I’m going to listen to this beckoning…
1 comment:
This is the pilloried husband writing.....yes its true. Life on the treadmill and in the rat-race leads us to trade-off seen-in-childhood practices at the altar of convenience, all to ensure that the treadmill stays on at a steady pace and doesn't wobble (that can be soooo unsettling and soooo dangerous dahlings). So what if someone makes off with a small fraction of what could have been yours??! the treadmill goes on steadily and i don't fall off.
But the amateur 2 is right. it is good, refreshing, indeed energising to stop and smell the smells around us; even if its a passing garbage heap or the resident fruit-wallah. Its liberating to haggle shamelessly with the corner kirana shop over small change (it's also good practice i'm sure - i find myself 'negotiating' (more like haggling) within my office, with channels, with sales teams, with agencies.....!!
Its a valuable insight amateur writes about - i am a proud and admireing husband (no make that PROUD-ER and ADMIRING-ER!) husband today.
Go on girl, can't wait for more on the weekend.
p.s - will the kabadi guy take the old suitcases, the worn-out DVD player as well?
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