The cooking maid lands up at 7.30 am.
So 7 am is a bad time for me. I have to run down two flights of stairs to rush to the vegetable vendor. The fresh vegetables that he has got from the mandi lie neatly tied in polythene bags. I rummage through the tomatoes to pick out the firm ones. I select the ladyfinger - it has to be tender and green. The pumpkin must be a rich golden yellow and not touched - so far - by flies. And then I have to rush back home to give the veggies to the maid.
Many a time I need the magic herb - garlic - which transforms everything from Italian to Indian and I need to revisit the vegetable vendor in the evening. By then both the sabjis and the sabzi wala have withered. I touch the tomatoes and the juice squirts out - I feel the spinach and it is rotting, the bitter gourd yellow and the potatoes with aged skin, the sun and the scorching heat have aged them in just a few hours.
Once when I wanted a couple of bananas I reached out for them to choose the best. But he stopped me and snarled, 'Don't touch them. I'll give them to you myself.'
I was taken aback by the fury in the voice. I quietly gave him the money and not being very wise, felt terribly wounded.
Then I thought over it - nearly a quarter of his stocks get spoilt and go in the garbage can. A choiceless situation. Then he would get up again next morning at 4 am, go to the sabjimandi, load his goods and begin the journey of his earnings once again.
So let us not bargain too hard with the vegetable vendor. Give him a little extra and be more patient with him. Because we stay in our air-conditioned house and complain at the slightest whiff of heat, while he stays on the road tending to his stocks of vegetables - watering them and resuscitating them so he could at least recover what he has spent. Let us not shout back at him. Let us empathise with his woes pain and travails.
Next morning when I went to him I went with a smile on my face. Not that there was the slightest hint of remorse on his face. But I did not mind.
My stance has changed. I went to him with a generous, forgiving and understanding heart!!
So 7 am is a bad time for me. I have to run down two flights of stairs to rush to the vegetable vendor. The fresh vegetables that he has got from the mandi lie neatly tied in polythene bags. I rummage through the tomatoes to pick out the firm ones. I select the ladyfinger - it has to be tender and green. The pumpkin must be a rich golden yellow and not touched - so far - by flies. And then I have to rush back home to give the veggies to the maid.
Many a time I need the magic herb - garlic - which transforms everything from Italian to Indian and I need to revisit the vegetable vendor in the evening. By then both the sabjis and the sabzi wala have withered. I touch the tomatoes and the juice squirts out - I feel the spinach and it is rotting, the bitter gourd yellow and the potatoes with aged skin, the sun and the scorching heat have aged them in just a few hours.
Once when I wanted a couple of bananas I reached out for them to choose the best. But he stopped me and snarled, 'Don't touch them. I'll give them to you myself.'
I was taken aback by the fury in the voice. I quietly gave him the money and not being very wise, felt terribly wounded.
Then I thought over it - nearly a quarter of his stocks get spoilt and go in the garbage can. A choiceless situation. Then he would get up again next morning at 4 am, go to the sabjimandi, load his goods and begin the journey of his earnings once again.
So let us not bargain too hard with the vegetable vendor. Give him a little extra and be more patient with him. Because we stay in our air-conditioned house and complain at the slightest whiff of heat, while he stays on the road tending to his stocks of vegetables - watering them and resuscitating them so he could at least recover what he has spent. Let us not shout back at him. Let us empathise with his woes pain and travails.
Next morning when I went to him I went with a smile on my face. Not that there was the slightest hint of remorse on his face. But I did not mind.
My stance has changed. I went to him with a generous, forgiving and understanding heart!!
