Marwari Seth

I grew up amidst Marwaris - the primarily family business oriented community in India. At one point in my high school years, I remember myself being the only South Indian in my class - a stark contradiction to the demographics of the local geography I grew up in. If I look back now, I see a majority of my life spent being a minority. Under different circumstances. These circumstances teaching me to fight for what I believe in and also over the years, helping me to recognize even the minor tints of beauty present in various forms that generally would have escaped a common eye. I distinctly remember my early years, when as a kid of 7 years, I would go along with my maid to the neighboring Kirana store to procure a Kilo of Rice or Atta, that my mother had just discovered we were running out of. Those were my first years of dependability. When my mother would trust me with 10 rupees to go and purchase what she wanted. My math abilities by that time graduating enough to do the required calculation. Also, in some occasions, when I behaved for the most part of the week, I was allowed to purchase orange candy that tastes similar to Altoids, with the remaining change. A Kirana store in India can be described as your friendly next door local businessman's small garage-ish store (friendly- only if you belonged to a privileged family - that is atleast if both your parents were earning and the family household income thus falling comfortably into the upper middle class. In my case, I was always more than welcome as both of my parents were Doctors, thus elevating my status into the affordable echelons of the society) where in a state of disorder, you would find the basic amenities that were required for your every day household needs.
The Kirana Store next door had a peculiar smell that oozed into the surroundings that cannot be precisely described. A smell that indicated the store's survival. An amalgamation of half lit incense sticks, camphor burning in a distance infront of a Ganesh idol - further sooting the wall behind and the pungent odor from the rusted iron fringes on the garage door . (Most often, the garage of the house that the Seth lived in, became the grocery store. Thus facilitating his afternoon siestas on a hot summer day) A smell that couldnot be missed while passing by the store. Somehow reminding you of its presence and luring you into a quick purchase- maybe a candy to satisfy your sweet tooth or a lemon soda ( Usually served in a green bottle with a marble that had to be balanced to let the soda flow) to quench your thirst. The Seth always at the counter, his constant exposure belying his intentions of lurking onto a prospective customer, then engaging the customer in a friendly banter, at times mocking at his own personality, at times ridiculing the abilities of the underaged "chotu" who worked for him, most of the times not forgetting to mention how lack-lustre the business has been and in that process pursuading the customer to try a new rice-bag that suppposedly was hand checked for insects or some fresh "Brookbond Coffee" that had just arrived. Always Fresh. Only for this special customer. And incase the customer happened to be a woman, not forgetting to mention how crisp her cotton sari looked today.This compliment carefully constructed so as to not sound cheeky. Only a genuine observation made as a matter of fact. As a result, an unnecessary purchase most often materialising into a fact. An ounce of flattery and a milligram of importance paving way to a purchase of a few kilograms of rice or flour. This concoction always working. Especially in a country where daily chores went unnoticed. Unappreciated. As if your surroundings were programmed to function according to your needs. No effort recognised from the people who make your surroundings.Where it is granted to take your spouse for granted. Thus, an occasional ounce of flattery shown from an unknown stranger (in this case, the Marwari Seth) resulting in an act of gratitude as the opposite reaction. Newton's theory of every action has an equal and opposite reaction thus being proved.
The Marwari Seth's life, a repitition of his father's. His father's life most likely a repition of his grand father's. Of managing to successfully run a family business while appearing to be just able to make the ends meet. His prefered offsprings would be male- thus enabling to continue the family business into unforeseable generations ahead. Daughters of the family, predictably leading a very sheltered life. Most likely would be married by the age of eighteen into a household that would further strengthen the Seth's existing business. A lucrative solution for an unasked blessing. For he has been disciplined into making money ever since he was a child (Even out of the tap water that he adds to the milk he sells). So nothing wrong in making room for some business expansion through a relationship that he creates for his daughters. Sons of the family groomed early on to gauge every situation encountered in terms of an inequality. The "greater than" symbol in this inequality always showing affinity towards their direction. Like the way iron mends its direction towards a magnet. Or vice-versa. But making sure that the mutual afffinity is never absent. Personal gain always heralded. Always on the fore-front. Moral dilemmas discarded in this process. Brains tuned only to extract profit. At any cost. Loss and defeat most of the times are not an option. Authority from the outside world mocked upon. Authority from within never questioned. Rebellious attitude instantly expelled. Conditioning to this tradition passed on from generations and carried forward with considerable pride.
A routine day in the Seth's life begins early at around 6:00 am. When the milk packets from the local dairy farm are delivered to his garage (which is also the store). At times when he is not feeling lazy, he mixes this milk with tap water and lets his wife neatly re-seal the packets with a very rudimentary set-up of a burning candle and a wet cloth to instantly remove the traces of any molten wax. These packets then are stacked hap-hazardly in an old Allwyn refrigerator ( the exterior of the fridge usually white in color- but gradually acquring an off-white/greyish tinge due to the lack of maintenance). The Seth then heads for a very quick nap usually lasting for an hour. During this time, the maid makes her daily appearance with a broomstick. To sweep the floor daily and on Mondays and Thursdays, mop it with Phenyl. While carrying out this daily chore of her's, the maid is always on the lookout. For an extra one rupee coin that somehow might have slipped from the Seth's hand and also his attention. Now hiding under a chair or an old Almirah. Waiting to be rescued and quickly slipped into the knot at the edge of her Sari pallu or into her blouse, resting in-between her voluptuous breasts. Always optimistic about this possibility. Thus conniving herself to reach even into the remote corners of the room, looking for an extra buck and pretending to get the dirt away. Most often the end result being a very clean room. And at times a fifty-paisa coin finding its away ( maybe once a month). That was cleverly tucked away by the Seth under the old Almirah stacking the Natraj pencils and the Lepakshi notebooks. To add fuel to the maid's optimism.
After the maid, appear the school children. For their last minute purchases, as they wait for the yellow colored school bus. In front of the Kirana Store. A pencil, an eraser. Maybe a notebook or a ruler. Perhaps English Marie biscuits for the snack break? Or Parle-G? The Seth by now is forced to wake up and go into the store. By his nagging wife, repeatedly reciting "Uthiye Ji .. Aath baj Gaya" (Please wakeup..its already 8:00 am). In a tone that camouflages contempt as concern. The decibels loud enough to agitate the sleep cells in the Seth's mind and thus break their harmonious existence. But not as harsh and unpredictable as the old Titan alarm clock (on the brown end table with floral designs painted by the Seth's wife in red and green) which sometimes shriek's a very shrill "Cuck-doo-koo" and at most other times just sleeps like an old dog. But whose batteries always run out too soon. Unlike this alarm, the Seth's wife adds her own personal touch and charm(??) to this very automated chore. Thus coercing the Seth to finally wake up and get out of his bed. And prepare himself with a cup of filter coffee.To attend to this aggregation of cantankerous children. Often intermingling their words and choices with each other's. Often knowing what they donot want and predictably, not knowing what they do. Creating a havoc within a few seconds of their arrival and this confusion lasting until the school bus arrives. Their Pocket money per day around 5 rupees. But their pockets demanding goods worth firty rupees. This inequality, something their Math teacher will not bother to resolve. Algebra as they always knew, thus was a very unfair discrepancy.
The school bus's exit always created a lull in the Kirana store's existence. A lull after the storm. That continued to become the lull before the storm the next day. Until the school children arrived again. And in the weekends, this lull continued for two days. Only sporadically interrupted by middle class house wives with stingy purses. Carrying bright blue or orange plastic baskets and swinging them along as they walked. Always haggling to the final fifty paisa. At times not even purchasing that kilo of Aloo for Subji after almost an hour spent on bargaining. Deciding to go further ahead to another store, to maybe find a better deal on a little more rotten produce.
At times the officers' wives sent their maids when they didnot have enough time to run into the centrally air-conditioned retail store in the mall that had opened recently. They always ordered the costliest of the vegetables ( Capcisum, Bringal and tomatoes) and always wanted aerated water and soda (Thumbs up, Gold Spot ..the Zing Thing as they advertised in those days) for their kitty parties. Their maids' never bargained about the prices. All they asked for was a bill that most of the times went unchallenged. The street smart ones made deals with the Seth where exorbitant prices (almost comparable to the air-conditioned store) were put on the bill and the profit equally split between the maid and the Seth. Ohh the Officer's ladies..in their sleeveless blouses and Silk Sari's. Trimmed eye brows and red lip-stick on their lips. Always in fashion and merry making. The Seth, always trying to make them a larger part of his clientele as opposed to the grim middle class clerk's wife. Trying to add a very personal flavor in enquiring about their and their relatives' well-being . "Ohh how is Pinky baby doing today?" " Did Bunny babu finish his homework in time? " "And how is the saab liking his new job? " Imagining that this little intimate inquiry would be remembered, safely stored in their memory and would be missed during their next visit to the air-conditioned retail store with haughty store-keepers.
The evening customers mostly comprised of the Bachelors back from work, stopping in for a quick bite of Samosa and a sip of steaming hot Adrak Chai that the Seth's wife had made in the afternoon. And indulging in small talk with the Seth about their jobs. The government employees always complaining about everything but doing nothing. The private sector employees also complaining about everything but atleast working. Sometimes a quick fued rising between both the parties and seldom quickly resolving. Most of the times, giving birth to heated arguments. The Seth's wife till then glued to the television in the living room ( Chotu helping the Seth serve the Samosas) quickly turning off the television and concealing herself behind the curtain in times of these heated conversations. Her empathy always for the under-payed, over worked private sector employee. Silently nodding her head with every argument made by the private sector employee. Not realising that her mute backing behind a curtain doesnot translate into a major force. The Seth cunningly not taking any sides. His wicked mind recognizing that by taking sides, his business will also dip. Just like the Bombay Stock exchange. Especially careful to not hurt the sentiments of the government employee whom he might have to bribe in the future to get things done. Hoping that his silent withdrawal from these arguments now would also result in the withdrawal of the scale of the bribe in future.
As the bachelors' leave, the Seth's wife usually heads towards the kitchen to prepare dinner for the family. In this non-peak, after school hours, most of the times you get to see the Seth's eldest son at the counter. Getting a grip of the business. Trying to remember the prices for all the commodities and also learning how to secretly place a magnet underneath one side of the old scales, thus adding weight to the side where the groceries would be placed for gauging. In these hours when business usually is dull, the Seth heads back to the living room to listen to the 7:00 pm Doordarshan News in Telugu (which he understands) and also the 7:20 pm News in Urdu.Making sure that the Urdu reporter didnot miss anything that the Telugu reporter mentioned earlier on.The Seth's eldest son and his aide Chotu stay at the counter for the rest of the night..until the store closes at 9:00 pm.
Thus goes on another day in the Seth's life. The same job that he has been carrying on for nearly half of his age. The same job that one day hopefully he would pass on to his children. The same clothes that he tends to wear daily. A white vest and a white dhoti. Heavy gold chain with Hanuman locket circling his neck. No attention paid to his appearance. Tending to his customers and in this process trying to entertain himself. Being nice to those who can afford his "niceness". And always looking out for an extra buck or two. The Marwari Seth in a Kirana Store..in the years to come will his existence get replaced by the ever sprouting retail markets in chic malls? Only a visit back to Hyderabad in the coming years will tell...