Skip to main content

At the Sabzi Bazaar

My next door neighbour, Mrs. Asha Singh, wants to visit the local market.  She has a matter or two to check at the bank and then she would like to have a look around the local shops.  She asks me if I'm up for an 'outing', as she calls it. Well, who doesn't like to get out for an hour or so?  I check to make sure the old dear (mother-in-law) is in good company - she is, her sister-in-law is over on a short visit of a day or two, and off we go.

So with an air of freedom, Mrs. Asha Singh and I are off, walking, chatting, keeping an eye out on the road and holding our shopping bags nice and close.  We stop off at the bank.  It's always nice to see that your bank book is up to date.  No doubt, it's nice to have ATM machines and all the rest, but Mrs. Asha Singh doesn't have time for such things.  Your bank book is your real wealth as far as she is concerned.  Me?  I use the bank all right, but I try to have as little to do with ATM machines  as possible.  One visit to an ATM machine and I lose track of my bank account forever.

After the bank, the vegetable market (sabzi bazaar) is the next stop.  It is quite a big vegetable market.  I love the atmosphere of the place, which its colourful fruits neatly piled up.  For me it's more luxurious than a chocolate shop.  However, the pomegranates are ridiculously expensive.  I'll wait a few more weeks until they become a bit more accessible.

Mrs. Asha Singh spends quite a bit of time haggling over cucumbers.  There's another little touch of luxury - salad!  Forget cooked vegetables, I could live on fruits and salads, vegetarian or not.  But the morning heat is insidious.  I'm feeling depleted and thirsty.

"Hello, Maria!  How are you today?" says a familiar voice.  I look up and see a familiar face, swathed with long, white veils down to her feet.  Sister Theresa from the local Carmelite Convent School and a fellow parishioner of mine.  How nice.

So Mrs. Asha Singh meets Sister Theresa.  The two of them probably wouldn't have met in a lifetime if it wasn't for me.  Sr. Theresa is from south India and speaks a language called Malayalam.  Mrs. Asha Singh is a Hindi speaking north Indian.   Strange are the ways of life.

Purchases completed, Sr. Theresa offers us a lift home, gladly accepted by me.  Mrs. Asha Singh is also happy.  We had  a nice morning, but it's getting too hot.

I sit in the lovely, luxurious (to me for now at least!) convent jeep, property of the Catholic Church and I think to myself that sometimes it feels so good to be a Catholic!  Especially at times like this.  I mean that in the nicest way possible....

I've just had a new comment system installed.  If you would like to leave a comment, please click on the title of this post and allow a little time for the comment system to load - thanks!

Comments

  1. Again a similarity in words has jumped out at me...Turkish word for vegetable...sebze.

    Sounds like a pleasant day...hope you are feeling much better now xx

    ReplyDelete
  2. I don't like ATM machines either, Maria. I prefer the personal touch of going up to talk to a bank teller.

    Is your hot weather the start of summer, or the end? I'm not sure what the season is in India! I'm sure you were thankful for the unexpected ride home, on such a hot day. :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Roaming around is always a great thing to do...greatest time pass for me at least....

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Thanks for visiting me. Please let me know you were here

Popular posts from this blog

Good Intentions

I had great intentions for this week.  I'd write a thousand words every day, review six books, get my Loose Bloggers Consortium (LBC) post up well in advance.  And did I?  No, no, no.  I wrote about two hundred words per day and have been trying to read and review two books and still not finished reading.  My target of 19,000 words until today by now is around 15,000 on my 100kWords in 100 Days Challenge.  It seems I'm just not cutting the mustard.

I have the intentions.  I just don't seem to have the mojo to carry out the things I want to do. So many intentions, not enough time.  I've not been sleeping well lately.  Probably very tired.

So - my intention now is to try to get more sleep.  Then carry out the original intentions.That' what I intend to do.  As of now.  Meanwhile, my post is up one day late.

I had to go out to the bank this morning to get some pending work finished.  I clicked the above picture en route.  It seems that after a three week winter, we're…

Global Peace - Is It Possible? LBC Post

I can't believe it's Friday already and time for another LBC post.  The Loose Blogger's Consortium (LBC) is a blogging group consisting of about half a dozen of us who blog together every Friday on the same topic.  We are indebted to Ramana (aka blogger Rummuser) for this week's topic.  Instead of just giving a straightforward topic like anyone else would, he posed a question instead.  Is global peace possible? he asked.  I decided to answer his question in a Tweet sized sentence.



Is global peace possible?  Of course it is. If everyone gets in harmony with each other.   But will it happen?  How on earth would I know?


As we say in Ireland (well, as they used to say when I lived there two decades ago), that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Thanks to All-Free-Download for the photo.  Thanks to Lettercount for their character counting facilities.  And thanks to my LBC group for being there every Friday in blogging solidarity.

The Curse of Poverty - Short Story

As the dawn light spread its fingers across the early morning, Rajji stirred uneasily.  She tended to sleep like a street dog - ever alert, with one ear open.  But she'd been tired the previous night and as a consequence had slept rather heavily. Her life was a constant struggle, filled with tasks and responsibilities. If she hadn't been careful, she might have been robbed!  She sprang into alert mode and clutched about her person.  No, everything was in place, the precious money was undisturbed.  Thanks to her employment with the bank, cleaning for one hour every morning, six days a week, she even had a bank account which one of the bank employees had helped her to set up.  What little money she had saved up was safe.....

She looked over her children.  Babu, her son lay sleeping still.  Muniya, her daughter, stirred, close to waking up.  But where was Gudiya, her youngest child?  Might have woken up early and gone to wander around.  Gudiya knew everyone around here and every…