Monday, August 25, 2008

The jamuns

Nadiad. The place well known for poeple's faith in one common place. The Santram Mandir. And that place i should say holds them together too. I am a part of it. Yes. It's like when we say 'jay maharaj' to each other irrespective of any place on this earth, it brings us together. Well, this holds true for every faith, i agree.
The mandir is always with visitors, the more appropriate words would be, 'the blessing seekers'. May be not all of them, but a few, yes. They always have something to ask for. Not only this, they send their children to place the 'ballpoint pen' for the blessings of maharaj , to write with it in exams the following day. Surprised !! No. It doesn't happen only in India. I am sure it happens somewhere else too, because its a matter of faith.
So, this mandir has a large compound outside, the place that is a setup of very fresh, big and busy 'sabji market'. And this is the place where i often accompany my mother. The day is always saturday. No specific reason for that though. And i always see the things around other than learning to buy perfect vegetables, i see people. Not just see them, i see them. Its always refreshing to see how a busy bhaajiwala is trying to do away with last few bunches of bhaaji, how a boy of age 10 successfully handles 5 customers with different demands of ginger, lemons and turmerics all with different proporitions, how a 70+ old lady manages to sell aways a basket of papayas. Everything.
Well well. On that day we had everything in our bags with 'bhaaji' hanging out that was placed hastily by bhaajiwalla over pieces of 'suran' and with sweet gaurds and cucumber and drumsticks sticking out like missiles on launch-pad truck. It was turn for fruits now. And we just passed a jamunwalli masi. The jamuns were quite 'healthy' i would say. Almost of full grown size and with shiny dark purple color the sweetapples were marketing themselves leaving very little for jamunwalli to do.
And so we stopped and mom asked the price. I have forgotten completely what the price was. But it was like spending 20 rupees would give you mere 5 or 6 sweet apples. That was the price. And just when we were being delivered our selected jamuns, a woman passed by with her little daughter catching hold of her mothers saree corner, the one effective way of not getting lost in a cowded market. The little girl had just crossed the jamunwalli and her small twinkling eyes were on shiny black jamuns. She didnt took her eyes off easily. I saw those eyes. And thats when she shouted for her mother, followed by the word 'jamun' with her little finger pointed at the basket full of jamuns. The mother came back, to pull away the little girl. She just caught hold of her arm and tried to make her walk with her. But the eyes. Even she saw them. They were on jamuns. She had to sit there, to take jamuns. She knew they were costly, but she had to ask the price. She did. And while the jamunwalli was finishing her money transaction with us, the little girls mother took a jamun in her hand. She took it in her right hand with her girl standing on left of her, expecting that she was going to get that one to eat. But the little one was not even a bit aware of what was going through her mothers mind at that moment, with a jamun in her hand, and moving her thumb up and down over it, turning and again rubbing it. She just kept looking at the jamunwalli who had already refused to give them for anything less. The little girl still had her eyes on basket of jamuns and the mother still had that jamun in her hand. I dont know what happened then. May be she was able to negotiate and get them for low price, as we had left who might have bought them for more. May be the one jamun that was in her hand was then enjoyed by her daughter. And maybe all these 'hopes' are wrong. May be.
But still, i have that 'faith' i talked about.