Fruit tales in Mumbai

I went grocery shopping the day befores with my mother. We came along tomatoes, potatoes, zucchini, water chestnuts; we passed by pineapples and apples, and I remember we stopped at papayas. They are a rich, sweet fruit.

The price negotiation factor is a real test of character. Bargaining shows the inner you. The seller in this case, without stating the real price put two papayas in the bag, confident that he would get the price. Meanwhile, Mom and I felt that since was so certain that Rs. 60 and then Rs. 55 was the price, that we should actually pay him Rs. 45. When he took his Rs. 50, he raised it to the god Hanuman before pocketing it.

Because of our (unfair) haggling, he refused to deal with us further. I felt awful about the callous manner in which he was speaking to Mom, so I intervened and said, “You talk like this with your customer, and then you put your money to a god,” trying to point to his hypocrisy. That infuriated him and he raised his voice and refused to talk to me.

Meanwhile, Mom had already agreed to a bargain price of Rs. 60 for oranges, which was unbeatable in other places, but because of what I said, he was unwilling to trade.

After about 15 more minutes of shopping, I still could not shake off the feeling that I’d done something wrong, so I went up to him to apologize.

I could not immediately spot him among fruitsellers, even though I was on the lookout for the Hanuman picture near his stall. I found him sitting down with two other neighbour fruitsellers; probably they had discussed his woes.

All I could do was fold my hands in greeting.
He accepted my apology, “I said too much.”
He acquiesced. “No, it’s just that I sold you the papayas even at a loss, and still you wanted a bargain.”
After some kind-talk of me saying “Please don’t hold this at heart,” he let me go with “Babaji ka aashirwaad hai.” (May the lord bless you).

Sounds a lot like “Salam aleikum” (May peace be upon you.)

God I miss Cairo!

In pajamas: green top, yellow bottoms with flower print
Time: 2 p.m. (lovin the stinky afternoon pajama feeling)
Motto: I’m lovin’ it (borrowed from McDonalds)