Joy of Shopping in Ahmedabad

 The true joy of shopping is in Ahmedabad

Most people believe that to shop, one must go abroad. But I feel that the real joy of shopping is in Ahmedabad.

It may start this way. You might be passing by a saree shop. You may not even have a specific thought about buying a saree. As the shop comes into view, you take a glance. If you are unfamiliar, you might first wonder if the shop is even open because the shop looks a bit dark. There’s a dim light on, and the fan is off. But the moment you are noticed, someone from within calls out, “Come, sister, come,” as if inviting you into their home. Suddenly, a couple of tube lights turn on, and the fans start spinning. As you enter and take off your slippers (yes, it is customary to take your shoes off) and step inside, a thick mattress covered with a snow-white sheet and plump white pillows are ready to welcome you. As you think about sitting down or preparing to lie down, you gently touch the pillow and sit. Your host, um the shopkeeper, asks, “What would you like to see, sister?” Now you feel a bit shy, thinking you just wanted to see the saree hanging outside. So you say, “No, no, nothing special, just show me that yellow saree.”

By this time, the shopkeeper has already sized you up completely. From just a couple of words and your attire, they have guessed whether you are from here or abroad. If he decided that you are an NRI, your welcome gets a bit sweeter. Everything about you—your slippers, clothes, your choice of words—is noted. Based on all this, the shopkeeper has calculated what kind of family you come from and how much you might be willing to spend. They’ve also decided how sweetly they should speak to you. Even someone with an MBA from Harvard or IIM might not grasp this understanding as quickly as they do.

As you think about what to do next, sarees start piling up in front of you. Colorful, shimmering, flowing, waving. Your long-lost love for sarees awakens. Meanwhile, the shopkeeper turns on the air conditioning and asks, “Sister, would you like tea or something cold?” Ah, what joy! Forgetting your hurry, you calmly pick up one saree after another, commenting, “Yes, this one, nice, okay,” as you go along.

Slowly, the pile grows bigger. During this time, the shopkeeper notices your expressions and decides where you hesitate and where your eyes light up. If you are with a few friends, the conversation among you helps him too. Finally, when you select seven or eight different sarees from the pile, the real show begins. The tea arrives. As you sip slowly, the shopkeeper tries each saree on himself. There’s no hesitation, no misunderstanding about gender roles. It’s just about showing you how beautiful the saree looks on a human body.

In the end, instead of one, you leave with five sarees. You take your time, enjoying some panipuri on the way home, and you are both happy—you and the shopkeeper.

In the end, instead of one, you leave with five sarees. You take your time, enjoying some panipuri on the way home, and you are both happy—you and the shopkeeper.

This was about the saree shop, but even at the vegetable or fruit vendor, the same love is there. “This papdi is especially for you today!” “Look at this papaya. It's as sweet as honey!” “Today, you are my first customer!” “Here, some coriander and chilies from my side.”

Where is this joy of shopping, and where is it in America, browsing through clothes hanging on hangers in a shopping mall, picking one out while searching for the price tag, and then looking at your reflection in a distant mirror? You circle around ten times, and in the end, you leave the clothes hanging back on the hanger empty-handed! In America, various sales flyers come home, trying hard, doing thorough research to bring you into the store, and they succeed too. But by the time you reach that store, first, you can’t find the salesman, then the dress from the flyer is missing, then your size isn’t available, and when everything is finally found, you discover that the sale period ended yesterday!