The happiness people find is amazing in whatever sphere of life, one always finds their HAPPY PLACE.
My visits to the vegetable market is an experience in itself, besides the exotic vegetables and fruits and their country cousins, it is with awe that I watch the happiness on the vendors faces, the light flirtations they have amongst themselves and the connect with each other is a little lesson I have learnt
They tend to the baskets of their produce with utmost care and love, wiping each and every one with a cloth, polishing the apples, till they can blush no more, the glow of the red and yellow peppers makes a sunny day even brighter, the humble green pumpkin (humble no more, check out the price!) has a lovely shade of green to it.
The vendor knows his flock, ask him if his produce is fresh, he kind of gets offended"What did you say?"
He is always willingly to chat with his regulars, and make new ones too, The push and shove are part and parcel of this morning rush in the bazaar, but the way the vendors are connected to each other is a story in itself, just a scream or a shout and a wave of a hand to the other side of the bazaar and he knows he has to transport some carrots quickly to this end to give the waiting customer.
Its always a 'Changing' story they are ever willing to lend out all the notes of loose change to help out their brothers who are haggling with a customer.
Very rarely do you see impatient ones, I had the experience of one such person, I picked a bundle of kotmir, as I was searching in his basket for a non flowering one, vendor saab flew into a fit, and asked me to take what he gave me, naturally I was upset and just walked away, but not without saying my bit to him, telling him how impolite he was and how he should allow his customers to choose, not that vendor saab cared too much with my walk away, I choose not to buy from him, my silent way of protesting.
The happiness that I have witnessed is really wonderful, wonderful to know that whatever place they maybe, (I have written about this in my previous blogs), in a bus, in a train, or even in the saabzi mandi, people find their HAPPY PLACE
My visits to the vegetable market is an experience in itself, besides the exotic vegetables and fruits and their country cousins, it is with awe that I watch the happiness on the vendors faces, the light flirtations they have amongst themselves and the connect with each other is a little lesson I have learnt
They tend to the baskets of their produce with utmost care and love, wiping each and every one with a cloth, polishing the apples, till they can blush no more, the glow of the red and yellow peppers makes a sunny day even brighter, the humble green pumpkin (humble no more, check out the price!) has a lovely shade of green to it.
The vendor knows his flock, ask him if his produce is fresh, he kind of gets offended"What did you say?"
He is always willingly to chat with his regulars, and make new ones too, The push and shove are part and parcel of this morning rush in the bazaar, but the way the vendors are connected to each other is a story in itself, just a scream or a shout and a wave of a hand to the other side of the bazaar and he knows he has to transport some carrots quickly to this end to give the waiting customer.
Its always a 'Changing' story they are ever willing to lend out all the notes of loose change to help out their brothers who are haggling with a customer.
Very rarely do you see impatient ones, I had the experience of one such person, I picked a bundle of kotmir, as I was searching in his basket for a non flowering one, vendor saab flew into a fit, and asked me to take what he gave me, naturally I was upset and just walked away, but not without saying my bit to him, telling him how impolite he was and how he should allow his customers to choose, not that vendor saab cared too much with my walk away, I choose not to buy from him, my silent way of protesting.
The happiness that I have witnessed is really wonderful, wonderful to know that whatever place they maybe, (I have written about this in my previous blogs), in a bus, in a train, or even in the saabzi mandi, people find their HAPPY PLACE
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