Musings at Mori Road

It was the evening before Mahalaya, and Mori Road was once again bedecked like a bride—resplendent with rows of shining lights and people rushing about, putting the finishing touches on the pandal that was getting ready to welcome the Goddess. The evening before is always busy, and as usual, I was delayed with chores. I eventually found myself at Chandu’s kirana store, asking for a long list of things—much to his disdain, as he hates being rushed. “You’re always in a hurry,” he admonished while attending to a demanding customer. Nearby, a boy of ten or twelve was negotiating hard with Chandu for a few pieces of chocolate. “It’s my father’s birthday tomorrow—can you give me a discount?” he asked. Chandu was not one to part with discounts, but I suppose the boy had been at it for a while, and finally, he gave in. “I don’t have change,” Chandu said, as the boy handed him a fifty-rupee note. The boy turned to me and asked, “Uncle, can you help with change?” I obliged and settled his bill ...