BENGALURU: There’s a vegetable vendor near my house — a corner store that is run by a family spanning three generations. It is run by an old man, his middle-aged son, and a young, constantly grinning nephew. They have been selling fruits and vegetables since the era when cash was the only mode of transaction.
When I first met the family, they did not even accept debit cards for payment. ‘Cash only’, the patriarch would say — as customers walked up to a nearby ATM to withdraw pictures of a smiling Gandhiji. About a decade ago, a supermarket opened up opposite the store, but the family-run business survived the competition. For you see, fruits and vegetables are not the top priority for a supermarket. They instead focused on processed food and overpriced junk.
In another few years, another supermarket opened up. They offered home delivery and benefited from the deep pockets of foreign venture capitalists. Thankfully, the customers who lived nearby preferred to walk to the store, as it was located near a park. Five years ago, the store was struck by another lightning
jolt — demonetisation. News channels spoke of the new notes that carried a nano-GPS chip to alert the authorities of terrorist activities. As urban India hailed the step as a brave, revolutionary step, those of us who didn’t sip on scotch on weekends had to run around looking for cash in ATMs.
While demonetisation acted as a catalyst for the rest of the country to adopt digital wallets and online payments, the vegetable store near my home refused to change. Armed with a disarming smile, the owner of the shop would ask people to either pay up in cash, or use the newly-acquired card-swiping machine that he had arranged for! Two years ago, the pandemic struck. While businesses around the world suffered, the family continued to run their corner store shop. It’s hard to maintain social distancing norms and precautions in a veggie store. The owners kept a watchful eye as customers resisted the temptation to hold the vegetables, smell them, and squeeze them to test their freshness. And yet, the shop continued to soldier on.
Since the pandemic has waned, the shop has been facing stiff competition from all sides. Food delivery apps have begun offering 15-minute delivery for groceries. Apps that purchase veggies from nearby stores and rush them rapidly to our homes have sprung up. E-commerce giants like Amazon are also offering delivery of fruits and vegetables. Hyper-posh stores have begun selling store-grown, hydroponic vegetables. And yet, the corner store continues to put up a fight — run solely on the basis of fresh produce and friendly sellers.
These days, I feel strangely protective of the store for some reason. The family of smiling greengrocers has begun to feel like a family to me. To an extent, they have adapted to newer technologies. One can find smiling pictures of Aamir Khan and Alia Bhat — encouraging people to pay digitally. If you request them nicely, they’ll even have a boy drop off your fruits and vegetables at your home. They will even call and inform you when seasonal fruits and vegetables arrive in their shop.
Of course, it’s only a matter of time before a mall comes up in its place. Large hoardings of smiling farmers who produce organic vegetables will be pasted all over. But till that day arrives, I shall purchase from the bumbling nephew, the sleepy father, and the aging patriarch who flashes a toothless smile when I leave his shop.
(The writer’s views are his own)