Saturday, August 5, 2017

Just Walking Around



The Door Bell keeps ringing…..                                                                            Part 1


Living in Matunga all these years first in an old building , ground + 3 with no security guard and now in a high rise with security guard and inter-com( mostly non-working). I have seen all types of vendors , salesmen and seller of unique items coming in and going out of our building. Much habituated by constant ringing of the main door bell and having to get up to open the door every time it rings. More often than not getting annoyed at the thought of leaving the work at hand and rushing towards the door to check who has come.But some times looking at the familiar faces across the door just melts away your irritation.

I still remember the vegetable vendor we used to call him “Vasaiwale” since he used to come all the way from Vasai the far off suburb of Mumbai. He used to come every week either on a Tuesday or a Thursday when most house hold in our neighborhood used to buy and make vegetables .Typical was his avatar – a dark colored checkered full shirt but kept unbuttoned and a dark brown or Khaki half pant literally measuring up to his knees. He must have been the first person who had started the trend of what is now called Bermuda Shorts or Khaki’s. And which we were with aplomb at home on the weekends.
He used to bring the freshest veggies of the season in his Kawad. A unique contraption of two large cane baskets hanging from a long wooden pole held over his shoulders when he moved around the neighborhood. During monsoons he would bring green vegetables like fresh jadi methi or the spiky Shepu. Sometimes he would bring Kel-Phul of the Banana blossom and my Aai would make a sweet sour sabji of it which we ate with Tandlachi Bhakri. At other times his kawad would be brimming with fresh green leafy vegetables like Chavli , Lal Math or exotic by Indian standards and which you will never get in the local vegetable market , Aamchuka or the sweet sour green leafy vegetable made into a gravy based curry or the Shevgyacha Pala (leaves of the Shevgyachya shenga) which were made into a tikki type pattice by mom , served with garlic chutney or your regular taomato ketchup it tastes divine.


In the monsoons, they would bring fresh garlic chives, White onions ,the freshest organic cilantro, kantol or teasel gourd.In winter they carried held beans, ghevda – a cultivar of sweet beans, toor beans etc. They would also have those big light green lady’s finger, which Aai selected by breaking the tips to check if they were fibrous and mature. He would admonish her for doing it as she left  behind the fibrous ones. These light green bhendi delighted me as a kid as they were exclusively meant for stuffing with a delightful onion and coconut masala to make bharleli bhendi. The spiky brinjals were another opportunity to stuffing the masala to make bharleli waangi.



Vasai’s famous sweet yellow-skinned bananas were always picked for naivedya and shikaran – a cardamom spiced milk and banana dish that Maharashtrian children love. At times, we would order dried bananas too, a signature variety of Vasai. Dried bananas are eaten as a power-packed snack just like other dried fruits.

Old Mumbaikars like me miss them grossly. These vegetable sellers guided buyers about selecting the right Aalu (colocasia) leaves for Alu wadi those crispy disc shaped typical Maharashtrian starters  and how the rotund bottle gourds were prized for making dudhi halwa as they had more delicate and fleshy centre than the elongated bottle gourds that dominate the market now. Most buyers like us had special relations with these vendors as they satisfied their needs of exotic yet local vegetables. They were thus addressed as Vasaiwale mamas. Memories come flying back as I see him vend his wares in our neighbourhood still at the ripe old age of 60.

Other vendors who rung our door bell were the Nankhtai wala who came bi-weekly with his enormous steel trunk. The trunk was laden with his khazana . The trunk would open to reveal all the wonderful goodies neatly arranged in different compartments - square, oval and round shaped biscuits topped with almonds or cashews or pistachios or tutti-frutti, begging to be picked up.His specialty were the of Nanakhatai those sweet round or rectangular biscuits topped with almonds or pista and which melted in your mouth.Much before the cookies became famous these Nankhatis would be served to special guest when they arrived at tea time. He also used to bring in those fluffy & crispy Khari biscuits which were best companion for the afternoon tea. Then again he had choice of golden brown rusk or toast as we call them , in baby variety or the large ones in the size of a bread slice.


Another person most looked forward to by all our Gujarati neighbors and of whom we also got habituated was a fellow who travelled all the from the distant suburban part of Dombivili carrying his bag filled with what eles but “Khakras” . Khakras are those crispy and raosted chapatti type discs you can eat at any time to fill those in between lunch/ dinner hunger pangs. Since they are of the roasted type are much healthier option than snacking on wafers of the oil fried munchies. Ask him the options and he will roll out a menu of flavours that would spin your head. He had the Schezwan Kharkra (little spicy), Tangy Tomato Khakra , Chatpata Pani Puri flavoured Khakra , the Punjabi Masala for the spicy tongued person , or the Crisp Methi ones or Jeera flavoured Ghee wala Khara which were melt-in the mouth. This was apart from the sstandard plain slated Khakra . The sizes also varied as per each families requirement coming in large or minies. Most families would buy atleast 3 variesties as per their taste . We stick to one flavor either Methi or Punjabi Masala though and by the time these Khakras get over , the Khakra wala is back at the door for his bi-weekly sales call.


One more person who did the round of our building and the neighborhood much before this area turned into a Kutchi-Gujarati dominated region were the fishermen and fisher woman from the Wadala fish market. Now most of them don’t frequent the building in Matunga as they don’t find enough customers. But they do move about in Dadar Parsi Colony which is a stones throw away from our housing society. You will find typically the UP bhaiyya with their tin tubs laden with different varieties of fish going from house to house of their loyal clients. The lady of the house usually place their orders well in advance with the techno-savy fish sellers on their Mobile phones and they in turn arrive with the freshest catch at the doorstep. A little bargaining and the deal is done and the fish seller get down to business of cleaning and cutting of the freshest Pomfret or the Rawas or King Fish (Surmai) or the Macrel (Bangda). Even the prawns are de-shelled and cleaned and handed over ready to be fired or curried. Making the buyer smile with content of the impending fish curry lunch……



So though I hate getting up and opening the door literally a hundred times on an off day , for these special vendors who make a living by visiting home to home I would gladly open the door and interact with some real people than spend time on FB interacting with virtual people…

Salute to these natural sales people…..


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