It was 00.45 a.m. on a moderately cold January
night in Hyderabad. It was one of those unfortunate days when I had to stay
late. ‘Will I get something to eat at this ungodly hour,' was my gnawing
thought as I stepped out of office.
I have seen children crying for a toy. As soon as
they get it, you can instantly see a sense of immense satisfaction on their
faces. I could not get a better example to explain what I was feeling when I
saw a bunch of small shops just outside my office still selling all kinds of
refreshments — aloo parathas, cold drinks, Maggi noodles and a lot more. As I
started walking towards them with a shivering body and a crying stomach, I saw
one of the stall owners staring at me as if I was the one he had been waiting
for all along. Without wasting a nanosecond, I approached him and asked for a
plate of Maggi noodles.
With a pleasant smile, he said: “Sir, give me 2
minutes, it will be ready.” Then, suddenly, one of those “Maggi 2 min noodles”
advertisements, which I have seen right from my childhood, struck me. I could
not have appreciated the USP of that advertisement more than I did this day. I
was all lost in my Maggi thoughts when I heard a voice, “Do you want it spicy?”
“Make it the way you like,” I said and started looking at my watch. It was
already 7 minutes. Now, he was ready and handed me a plate full of the most
delicious Maggi I would ever get to taste in my life (at least, my stomach was
telling me so).
Chit-chat
Spoon after quicker spoon, my hunger moderated and
I thought of having a little chit-chat with the guy who was my hero now. I told
him “Anna, thanks….it was very tasty.” He smiled and, pointing me towards a
flask, said “we keep tea also, in case you want it.” Interpreting his reply
beyond the sales pitch part of it, I asked him to make sure that I don't get
the same scary feeling of not finding anything to eat after 10 p.m. “Anna, till
what time do you keep your shop open?” As he replied, “Till 1 O'clock, sir” (he
was busy stirring his spoon to mix another Maggi), I started wondering how they
got to manage their shop 17 hours a day as I have seen the same few shops there
in the day when I crossed them while coming to office.
Daily routine
Asked about his daily routine, my shop wallah said
he got up at 6 in the morning and after taking a cup of tea prepared by his
wife, came to the place cycling 10 km from his village. He sets up shop fully
before the IT crowd streams in.
He prepares fresh tea, keeps a variety of snacks
in glass jars so that flies and people can take a peek at them. There are also
cigarettes of various brands on display for those who do not care about looking
at the picture of two cancerous lungs pasted on top of every packet.
Soon, people start coming and his typical business
day begins when he gets those first few rupees. Who will believe that the guy,
who eats his brunch by 11 a.m. and dinner at 11 p.m., keeps everyone else
eating throughout the day? He told me he makes every effort to fulfill the
needs of the customer in terms of both quality and timing of food so that they
do not stray towards his competitors who are just a few feet away selling the
same stuff at moderately the same price.
Under these circumstances of intense competition,
it is the bonding between the customer and the vendor that matters while making
the choice rather than the price. If one day he says “no” to one of his
customers, probably the latter will never come back to him.
His point of having food twice a day at odd hours
soon seemed justified. He told me he starts packing the stuff (leftover snacks,
cigarettes packets, etc.,) by 12.45 at midnight to be taken home, being afraid
of thugs, after serving the last batch of customers like me, and starts
cleaning the vessels.
Happiest moment
Gathering his earnings for the day is the happiest
moment for him in the otherwise dull and hard day that kept him working
throughout — literally like a robot. He gets to sleep only after 2 a.m. and
phew, a day ended!
He works Monday to Friday here as the weekend is
not worth the trouble of opening the shop.
Asked what he does on the two fortunate days for
both of us, he looked at me as if I slapped him hard and replied, “Sir, the
other two days might be fortunate for you, but I have to work harder on those
days as I need to attend to my farmland in my village which my wife takes care
of in my absence.” I, generally, spend my weekends sleeping.
Now, I know how life goes on either side of the
wall that stands between our workplaces. It will be difficult for the existence
of one without the other. Both complement each. However, I feel that I am on
the privileged side, as I do only half the time of work of the other side or
even less, and get paid more, actually a lot more than the other side. Still I
complain, still strive for a better place, and still feel unsatisfied. But the
man standing on the other side of the wall still thinks I work harder than him
and hence I earn more.
- Source: THE HINDU, December 25, 2011 01:51 IST
