The
Screamers down the society compound… Part
2
Has your sweet siesta on a
Holiday been broken by the screaming sound of someone down below in your
society compound trying to attract your attention by shouting out something
like Juna Purana Saaman or Junaabo . You peer out of
your French window or from your balcony and what do your see , but a man
pushing his hand cart converted into a small carriage by nailing a few sheets
of aluminum on three sides so as to make space for carrying the old and
unwanted items he collects from different falt owners . In exchange he offer
some paltry sum , but you are glad because it has reduced the clutter in your
otherwise spic and span home. He has an art of bargaining with you and eyes of
a hawk finding the finest cracks and chips to your wooden or ceramic / glass
item bringing the price to few Rupees instead of a Hundred and give you an
assurance that you got a good deal. He picks these odd item and carts them away
. You will find him at the odd Wednesday or a Friday Bazaar selling those very
things like a side table an old ceiling fan a couple of chairs or even a few
ceramic showpieces all refurbished and ready to be picked up by those who love
old and archaic items.
During my childhood days there
used to be a lady who used to frequent
our society carrying a cane basket filled with gleaming steel utensils. These
she offered in exchange of old clothes from every house hold. She
should carefully sift through the pile
of old clothes strewn in front of her making up her mind as what she can offer
in exchange. If the clothes had a god Saree cotton or a nylon she would offer a
Steel Katori else you would have to
satisfy yourself with a steel lid . If the pile had some good children’s
clothes like a good frilly frock or an decent party ware shirt and pant she
would magnanimously offer a copper plated small katori or an kadhai. And you
would gladly part with your old clothes for a great deal. Just like the old
wares merchant she would then take these old clothes and sell it for a princely
sum to labourers and daily wage earners at the same weekly bazaars in working
class areas of Lalbaug , Parel or even in old Fort area in Colaba.
Some street screamers had
nothing to sell but rather offer there services for some money like that old
man in a pure white dhoti and kurta topped up with a khadi jacket and head
covered by a white topi. He would arrive on his cycle the typical one which a
Milkman uses like a Hero or a Hercules and shout out “Kalaiyaaa-- Kalaiyaa”.
He was the tin man who took your big Pital (Brass) utensils which would have
turned green on the inside due to oxidation for a process known as “tinning”
to make them shining again. He had his loyal customers like my Aai who
would trust him with her 3 big Tope’s or big cauldron handed down the ages from
one lady of the house to the other in the family. The tin man would make a note
of the utensils in his small dairy and take them away only to come back the
following week with same utensils , now gleaming and polished ones which looked
as if they were as new as on the day they were bought. Bringing a warm smile on both his and my mother face.
Then there were the usual Raddiwala or the Phool wala , both
coming mostly in the morning time one to collect you old papers and cart them
away on his cycle . The other who brought small sapling of colourful flowers like
hibiscus – red ,pink and white or marigold (gonda / genda phool) or the sweet
smelling mogra or parijaat . Some standard plants like Tulsi or exotic like
water lilies or some time on demand from particular customers saplings of
jasmine , or boganvile . Some would ask him to bring medicinal plant like aloe
vera or citronella or some romantic one would request for roses in red , white
pink and and yellow. He would bring them neatly packed in his plastic crate
held aloft his head or sometimes on some ones borrowed cycle. Just before the
monsoons he would also bring special packets of soil med with cow dung to be
put in pots for boosting the growth of the plants in his customers collection.
The chant of “Phooloa” breaking th
morning routine , making the people with green thumbs peer out of their windows
to check if any new plants were part of the Phoolwala’s collection.
Some odd ball vendors which
have vanished due the consumer philosophy of use and throw were like the bucket
repairing guys. There used to be a person who would come late in the afternoon
with his hot coal sigdi and varied sizes of screw drivers shouting “Baldiaa” to attract his customers. If
your plastic bucket started leaking due to a crack at the bottom or the side ,
he would examine the bucket under his magnifying glass or a watch repairs
monocle and tell you where all he would have to put a patch to stop the leak.
He would then get down to business, first he would light the small sigdi to
heat the coals then he would keep his screw drives heating in them and start by
cutting small plastic pieces of same colour as the bucket from his collection
and then press them agains the crack in the bucket to fuse this piece with the
main bucket to close out the leak. Once done he would ask for some water to
test whether the leak was stopped. Smiling he would hand over the buket to the
owner and demand his fees which would be as low as One rupee to maximum of
Rs.10 if there were multiple leaks.
One of the bygone street
vendors who still call on their loyal customers going from building to building
are the knife and scissor sharpners of the Dharwala’s . With their big grinding
wheel fixed to their bicycle. They mount the bicycle on the stand and start the
business by shouting out “ Dharwala Dharwala --- Chaku Churyaan Tej karalo….”
Come and get your knives sharpened. People who need their services send their
maids down with all the knives that need sharpening and get them ground and
sharpened on the big grinding wheel. For the next few days you need to be extremely careful as
the sharp knives could cut your fingers unknowingly as you tend to forget its
renewed sharpeness.These guys still do brisk business but they too have fallen
back to technology as most of the machine sharpened steel knives you get today
cannot be sharpened as the old iron ones used to be .
So next when you hear a call
from below you windows or the gallery and see a little commotion don’t get
alarmed , it just might be one of these small time vendors trying to attract
your attention with their trademark calls be it “ Juna bo ….Kaliayaaa …Dharwalaa”…and trying to etch out an honest living using their god gifted skills
…..
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