My family moved back to our house in Andheri in October 1991. At that time, the building in which I live in was the last building on the road. There was a dead end and there was an open drain that you would have to cross. On the other side, there was a Gurudwara built on the middle of the road.
The nearest shop on that road belonged to a pan-bidi seller. The shop was called Mama Pan Bidi Shop. Along with pan and cigarettes, Mama would sell cold drinks, bread and eggs. His shop would be open by 6.30, so that his boys could help deliver the milk. He would make some good money through this trade.
Mama was always indecently dressed. He would wear the Indian-style sleeved vest and a pair of striped boxer shorts. I had never seen him wear anything else for the 17 years that I saw him run the shop. Sometimes I would wonder whether he has a lifetime supply of that particular clothing. What would he wear for a family outing? What did he wear at his wedding? What did he wear when his first kid was born? What would he wear if he scaled Mount Everest? Another question that kept arising was whether I would recognize him if he wore something else.
In 2007, redevelopment started on our road. This meant that several buildings in our area were demolished and families relocated to newer properties in the city. It also meant that the roads were being widened, which also meant that Mama Pan Bidi Shop was going to be razed down.
It was weird for a while, but then I forgot about him. The only time that I would remember was when my brother, who moved to the states in 1998, would ask me what he was up to. He stopped asking as well.
This morning, while walking towards the highway, I decided to take an old route I would take when I was in school. When I turned and began walking down that road, I saw an old man in a sleeved vest and striped boxers. I looked at him and said, "Mama! Aap Yahan Pe Abhi." He laughed and said, "Paanch saal ho gaya, baba."
Mama is one of those people who reminds me of those Doordarshan news readers. Whether you see them in 1983 or 2029, they will always look the same. In that period, a lot in our lives change.
The nearest shop on that road belonged to a pan-bidi seller. The shop was called Mama Pan Bidi Shop. Along with pan and cigarettes, Mama would sell cold drinks, bread and eggs. His shop would be open by 6.30, so that his boys could help deliver the milk. He would make some good money through this trade.
Mama was always indecently dressed. He would wear the Indian-style sleeved vest and a pair of striped boxer shorts. I had never seen him wear anything else for the 17 years that I saw him run the shop. Sometimes I would wonder whether he has a lifetime supply of that particular clothing. What would he wear for a family outing? What did he wear at his wedding? What did he wear when his first kid was born? What would he wear if he scaled Mount Everest? Another question that kept arising was whether I would recognize him if he wore something else.
In 2007, redevelopment started on our road. This meant that several buildings in our area were demolished and families relocated to newer properties in the city. It also meant that the roads were being widened, which also meant that Mama Pan Bidi Shop was going to be razed down.
It was weird for a while, but then I forgot about him. The only time that I would remember was when my brother, who moved to the states in 1998, would ask me what he was up to. He stopped asking as well.
This morning, while walking towards the highway, I decided to take an old route I would take when I was in school. When I turned and began walking down that road, I saw an old man in a sleeved vest and striped boxers. I looked at him and said, "Mama! Aap Yahan Pe Abhi." He laughed and said, "Paanch saal ho gaya, baba."
Mama is one of those people who reminds me of those Doordarshan news readers. Whether you see them in 1983 or 2029, they will always look the same. In that period, a lot in our lives change.
