Another walk in the city – II

This is the second installment of the article titled Another walk in the city I. To read it, click HERE

A familiar sight greeted me once I entered the departmental store. Packets and packets of Lays, Cheetos, Piknik, Maggi noodles, Milkybars and Milk Bikis were neatly arranged in different shelves. To be honest, my craze for these “evergreen” (not in the true sense of the word) (laughs!) snack items had long gone with my transition to a responsible 20 year old man of the family. However, I always invoke the old saying “Old habits die hard” to my defence, to satisfy my ever voracious appetite once in every 2 weeks. So no guilt attached there.

Where was I again? Ah, the departmental store.

Every time I visited it, I amused myself with the fact that the store had CCTV cameras. And that we could view ourselves in an Onida TV in four different cam views. As if the people who came there always planned anything of those sort beforehand!

I dug my hands inside the pockets for the list. Ah ha. Not before I guessed its contents myself. It wasn’t that difficult not to get it wrong, after 10 years of buying almost the same items time and again. I was right. Well nearly. I didn’t think about the 2 kg raw rice. Rest was spot on – Washing powder, wheat flour, bleaching powder etc etc.....I should’ve thought a trifle more, being quite the ardent fan of Sherlock Holmes.

The place was congested with cardboard boxes strewn on the floor. Elderly women always moved slow, sometimes waiting at the corner of the store, where most of the items on my list where arranged. I ended up doing acrobatics I wouldn’t even dream of attempting at the gym, to fetch the items often attracting their wrinkled, incensed stares.

I shuffled towards the counter for the billing. This was my most favourite part of the walk. The cashier knows I’m a regular and I had seen his face enough to last two lifetimes. Yet, we hadn’t spoken a word, let alone pleasantries on the last five occasions and probably even before that. I always believed such a businesslike attitude towards each other always made the next visit a possibility, an appealing one at that. It was this unspoken professional way of handling customers that set me thinking about my career along the lines of a shrewd manager.  The transaction was smooth and I had got what my mother wanted. I started my walk back, with some weight on my right arm.

 The evening was preparing itself to plunge into the night. But there was no reduction in the traffic. The horns were mercilessly applied and people were scurrying to get back to their homes, to some peace and quiet. Often I would meet my juniors from my old school; mobiles nestled on their tireless ears. We would exchange understanding glances and walk on.

Today though, it was just me and my chattering mind for company. Through the windows visible from the wooden gates of many houses, I could see women glued to their idiot boxes. I checked my watch. It was 8 30 pm. I smiled again. The world hadn’t changed much over the last two years.

I handed over the heavy bag of rations to my patient mother and returned the change, as she busied with pouring over the bill. Once in my room, I thought to myself, the walk wasn’t so bad after all. I felt more clear-headed, even though I was a bit tired from my exertions.

Then it struck me, I could enter this experience in my blog. Maybe mom was really nice and sweet after all. I closed my eyes, half naked and relaxed, wondering how my wordings must go....

“Have you forgotten THE MILK? AGAIN?” screamed my mother from the other room.

Oh dear! Here we go again.