A nameless bond

Salim is a 24 year old vendor of pirated DVDs and X rated movies that sold like hot cakes amidst the bustling market place in Kalupur sabzi mandi.  During my days of association with GSACS, I had a routine.  Once, every week, after office, I would drive down to the busy market place, park my Activa next to Salim’s shop, buy a few DVDs (for Rs. 20/- each) and proceed to get the greens.  Initially, more than buying DVDs from his paltry shop, my selfish interest was to get a secured parking place within easy reach, without having to make way through the winding grimy lanes into the approved parking place.  But a bond had developed between me as a buyer, and him as a seller. 

Slaim’s shop was efficiently contained in a hand driven cart fully equipped with a portable TV set and DVD player and neatly stacked audio and video CDs. Other than me, it was frequented mostly by fellow shopkeepers, laboureres, auto rickshaw wallahs, chai wallahs and the others…. devouring the flashy DVD covers, impatient to discover the contents therein.  A loud speaker blaring away the latest hit item numbers could not but demand your attention. 

But no matter how busy he would be, as soon as he saw me approaching, he would dismiss the crowd temporarily and very respectfully make way for me to park the vehicle and make my choice of DVDs.  He knew my choice perfectly….cartoon movies or recent decent movies. 

At times, when I would be delayed in office, my entry time at the market place would synch with his time to go home.  Having dismantled his ‘office’ he would call out to me, ‘….thoda jaldi aa jate toh Superman ka naya DVD toh le jate…”.  At times, he would flash his intuitive side….when I would not buy any DVD from him, he would conveniently assume “bachchon ka exam chal raha hai kya?’’During Ramzaan days, his absence was a bit disappointing.  On asking, he once surprised me by his simple yet meaningful reply, ‘335 din grahak ke liye …. 30 din sirf unke liye..’. 

One day it was late evening when I reached the market that was relatively desolate.  I proceeded towards the green grocers’ after waving to Salim who was almost ready to leave for home.  After having filled the gunny bags with weeklong stock, I returned back and to my surprise Salim was there, waiting while leaning against my Activa.  I was pleasantly surprised to meet him again and asked, ‘Aaj ghar gaye nahi?  Kya hua?’.  With a familiar heartwarming innocent smile flashing across his tired face, Salim replied…’Aapne mujhe jaane hi kahan diya?” 

Before I could retort to this rejoinder he playfully pulled out the key chain of my Activa and said “Aap toh chaabi dikki mein hi bhul kar chali gayi ……mujhe dhyan rakhna padta hai…yahan se aapka scooter gayab ho jata toh?”

Ashamed at my mindless and oft repeated act, I could barely return a feeble smile and mumble a faint thank you.

*****

(After having left GSACS, I yearned to go back to the old city to visit the wholesale market; I wish to meet Salim.  I was there few months back but met a similar looking fellow in Salim’s shop.  I asked him about Salim’s whereabouts and was pleased to know that he has moved ahead in his business.  His DVD shop is now looked after by his younger brother while he now owns a proper shop that sells shoes.  I told him to convey my salaam to his brother and departed).