Ruminates- verb and noun form: in the Bazaar

The sonorous ringing of temple bells competed with the shrill voice of the hawker as she tried to convince me that the cost of lemons went up by twice as much in a single day because the rains were late by ten days. She could spot a city-bred human from a mile across. The fragrant smell of jasmines on a cart competed with dung that a cow suddenly dumped onto the middle of the road. Some creatures enjoy the glare of publicity, much like bathroom singers who know their voices will echo across to their neighbours'.

I nimbly jumped over the gaping holes in the slabs lining the drains- which passed for pavements; adroitly side-stepped the leaf litter swept up by the municipal sweepers and negotiated my way between the jostling crowds as I tried to locate Mangatlal Tukaram framers. 

It was one of the rare occasions that I was forced to step into a bustling bazaar. The guilt of having carried the paintings to be framed in the boot of my car for months together hadn't been enough to push me into actually getting into the framer's shop. I had even had to take the painting out and replace it right back after giving the car for servicing. There was no excuse for my tardiness. I took the kids to their music class every Friday and parked my car not even 100 meters away. But I preferred to while away my time, eating melt-in-the-mouth, soft thatté idlis with spicy green chutney, washed down with piping hot coffee, or reading a novel while sitting in the waiting area of the music school.

Guilt tripped by the spouse, I had finally ventured into the market and I remembered why I disliked it so much. It was not for me, the sights and sounds of a bazaar to which Sarojini Naidu tried to give a poetic twist. I'm inclined to think I will have the vehement support of all school kids forced to read these kinds of rhymes and forced to find joy and meaning in them.

I am as much an artist as the girl next door and call me finicky, but I'd much rather walk on an even surface than constantly look down to see where the break in the pavement occurs and up to see where a board or pole or some extension is projected out. This uneven wobbling of the neck was even more rigorous than my yoga routine.

In addition, I never have any idea of what the fair price of any article might be. This elasticity of rates (and I have heard of even the weights they use) leaves me feeling inadequate, with a vague apprehension that I have been taken for a jolly good ride.

A new evil has been added to this already cacophonous picture- the latest weapons acquired by hawkers are mics which blare out the rate every ten seconds. How they survive it with nonchalance, not showing the least symptoms of a mental meltdown is surely a dissertation topic. I know I couldn't stand there for half a minute without giving a lecture on sound pollution. Not realising, as my friends would say, the irony of me complaining of sound pollution.

 

In my usual contrarian fashion, I dislike shopping in malls too. I feel as though all eyes are on me as I make my way through the wares on display, and if I don't buy anything then it's as if I'm personally jilting them. No one wants to be a jilter or a jiltë (I vote that word be included in next year's dictionary). It's too heavy a burden to carry.

That leaves only one avenue- online. Despite weighing all the criticisms of it including not shopping local, I figured that's the only thing that would work for someone like me. But the sheer scale and variety on offer, confuse me too much. I figure if I scroll for another ten minutes I will find something that is a bargain, is unique, and is in a colour that I just love, and thus begins a descent into a rabbit hole that one cannot easily come out of.

After weighing all the advantages and disadvantages of various methods of shopping, I have reached the logical conclusion that there is only one way out. I need people to give me gifts, which they can spend time and effort researching. It doesn't even have to be expensive. I will manage on whatever I have been gifted and make do without if required. I have trained the spouse, by my sheer incompetence, into ordering essentials online so we can manage without too much. 

Recently, someone I know, having heard of my philosophy, decided to get on my good side by presenting me with a jackfruit. He had unfortunately omitted to cut, peel or remove the seeds. This created some amount of disharmony in our household with everyone refusing to dismember the said fruit. This has forced me to revise my guidelines: when you get me a gift, ensure that it doesn't require any effort on my part to use it. At heart, I'm a simple girl, now if you step up and do your bit the world will set itself right.