My husband’s parents live in a close-knit community of independent homes; where people have known each other for many decades.
The streets are always bustling with chit-chatting neighbours, children playing on the streets and vehicles weaving in and out. There always seems to be some excitement, amidst all this bustle.
Neighbourhood shops are a mere stone’s throw away, and one can pick up most anything from these self-contained shops that are tucked away all around the community.
What makes the atmosphere more vibrant are the street vendors, who have their regular ‘beat’ around the various streets.
Their calls, as they hawk their goods, are distinct. Each vendor arrives at a particular time – some on all days, some on alternate days, and some others on the weekends.
I am standing at the doorstep watching the goings-on in the street. The vegetable vendor arrives, parks his push cart outside our door, and calls out, “Tomatoes, beans, onions, potatoes…”.
The ladies saunter towards the cart, with their own bags. They carefully examine and pick and choose the veggies. The vendor’s eyes are hawk-like as he weighs, bargains, and closes multiple deals.
He throws in some coriander leaves, curry leaves and ginger for free, making every customer happy!
There is some personal banter – after all, he meets these people every day. Money and vegetables are exchanged. He takes a breather, someone brings him a cup of tea. He relishes it, while delicately balancing his cart.
I ask him if I can click a picture. He happily agrees. He smiles. His veggies look happy too!
He is on his way soon, to the next street on his beat.