I often wondered what happened to Manoj. Where did he go? What happened to the biscuit jars that lined at the front of his shop. The friendly smile he would give me when ever I forgot to bring money for the Atta biscuitsI so very loved. He knew I’d come back tomorrow, and I knew I’d find him in the same garage which had been his shop for as long as I could remember. I still recollect the shameless guilt with which he’d recount the current gossip doing rounds of the mohalla.
Well, that’s before the winds of change. They swept some of us to the top of the Delhi’s elite, while others were brushed under the carpet, unforgotten, uncared for. The opening up of our economy in the 90’s heralded unprecedented change. Branded shoes, T-shirts, which I had to wait an entire year for, making, correcting, rec-orrecting lists of things I would mail to Santokh uncle to bring when he came for his annual visit to Delhi.; were suddenly available in show rooms all over Delhi.
Then came the corporates & their malls, bringing there brand image, brand identity & marketing strategies to take over the Indian consumer. I wonder if Manoj and his tea stall ever figured in the basket of opportunities they brought with them. The taste of his biscuits soon became a thing of the past as Cheerios and Chocolate chip cookies became the treats me and my friends craved for. In retrospect it seems as if these ‘benevolent corporates who came with a bag of goodies, to entice a specific clientele of fools who gave up on things they hitherto cherished to clamber on to a pedestral, a status they now craved. The mirage, the glitz they brought with them has worn away, on me at least.If only Manoj knew what wonders neon-billboards, attractive shop fronts , optimizing display area meant, my be he would have saved his business. May be, may be not…For I am talking of a man who was quiet, who was humble, who never had to fight for a business which ran on goodwill more than money, while shopping malls today can be best described as, “In order to get noticed , size must be oversized, garish in order, in color, and thrust far out, high into the sky, so as to out do the other leads to excess that shocks the eye, maximizes visibility’. I wonder if Shopper’s stop would ever lend me 10 rupees, if Big Bazaar would ever take a packet of chips back because a week later I realized that I had brought the wong flavour. I wonder if….
I often go to shopping malls, which promise to be Singapore in Gurgaon or Dubai in Noida, and in them I secretly look for a ‘Manoj Ki Dukaan’. For a shop keeper who knew who I was; how much sugar I liked in my tea; which TV shows I like to follow. But I often end up in a glitzy Barista or a CCD paying 50 rupees for a chai which is hot, missing warmth of a shop, and an age now bygone…
Well, that’s before the winds of change. They swept some of us to the top of the Delhi’s elite, while others were brushed under the carpet, unforgotten, uncared for. The opening up of our economy in the 90’s heralded unprecedented change. Branded shoes, T-shirts, which I had to wait an entire year for, making, correcting, rec-orrecting lists of things I would mail to Santokh uncle to bring when he came for his annual visit to Delhi.; were suddenly available in show rooms all over Delhi.
Then came the corporates & their malls, bringing there brand image, brand identity & marketing strategies to take over the Indian consumer. I wonder if Manoj and his tea stall ever figured in the basket of opportunities they brought with them. The taste of his biscuits soon became a thing of the past as Cheerios and Chocolate chip cookies became the treats me and my friends craved for. In retrospect it seems as if these ‘benevolent corporates who came with a bag of goodies, to entice a specific clientele of fools who gave up on things they hitherto cherished to clamber on to a pedestral, a status they now craved. The mirage, the glitz they brought with them has worn away, on me at least.If only Manoj knew what wonders neon-billboards, attractive shop fronts , optimizing display area meant, my be he would have saved his business. May be, may be not…For I am talking of a man who was quiet, who was humble, who never had to fight for a business which ran on goodwill more than money, while shopping malls today can be best described as, “In order to get noticed , size must be oversized, garish in order, in color, and thrust far out, high into the sky, so as to out do the other leads to excess that shocks the eye, maximizes visibility’. I wonder if Shopper’s stop would ever lend me 10 rupees, if Big Bazaar would ever take a packet of chips back because a week later I realized that I had brought the wong flavour. I wonder if….
I often go to shopping malls, which promise to be Singapore in Gurgaon or Dubai in Noida, and in them I secretly look for a ‘Manoj Ki Dukaan’. For a shop keeper who knew who I was; how much sugar I liked in my tea; which TV shows I like to follow. But I often end up in a glitzy Barista or a CCD paying 50 rupees for a chai which is hot, missing warmth of a shop, and an age now bygone…
2 comments:
hey aman loved this blog entry....i use to feel the same abt a shop was closed down becoz of all the sealing...u just wrote watever was on my mind...way to go dude!hats off to u
You write very well Aman.. I could feel the warmth in every sentence you write.. Way to go.. I am proud to know someone like you!!! :)
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