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KATHMANDU, JULY 12
After the imposition of the lockdown following the second wave of COVID-19, the streets of the towns now swarm with vendors selling all sorts of daily needs, particularly in the morning, as people have mostly gone indoors, stepping out only when it's absolutely necessary.
The atmosphere has taken on an interesting character as they resort to different modes to attract the attention of the households. Some keep honking the horns; others call out with their special self-composed inimitable tune, so that you know who is selling what.
I do not set the morning alarm anymore. In the early hours, a vendor, selling vegetables, toots on his van's horn not once or twice but several times till I'm jerked awake. If no one appears on the balcony, or a door or two opens, he goes on a honking spree yet again. By the time the sound grows gradually distant, all in the locale have risen from their beds!
At 2 pm in the afternoon, like clockwork, a young man makes his dramatic entry. At this hour, except for a few birdcalls, all is almost still. He enters the lane on stealth and then suddenly launches into a melodious tweet, raising his voice one notch at a time, rhythmically pronouncing the names of the fruits in his custody. As he announces his arrival, members of different apartments start calling him. Even when in the act of weighing the products he keeps humming his signature tune, drawing more customers.
The other day a voice hitherto unheard spoke over a microphone with echo-effect. We could make out Mishti Doi was being offered. A few people gathered outside saw a slowmoving car from the town of Nabadwip, famous for sweetmeats, which is far away from ours offering mouth-watering, creamy curd in an earthenware pot. Shortly, there formed a beeline, and the stock was sold.
Pandemic compulsory shutin, pay and job-cuts in hordes, and social distancing have forced a lot of people to change their profession overnight.
Those who used to sell goodies in the train have also taken up the odd street job going from door to door. You find new faceshawking their wares at all hours of the day.
But the take-away point is that all these newly sprung traders in the street, despite being in deep trouble and uncertainty, are all gaiety in the gloom, their spirit effervescent because they don't think beyond today and are happier than those who, although relatively more fortunate, worry about what's in store rather than live in the moment.
This trend is also a pointer to the unavoidable fact that all business outlets will have to provide doorstep services as much as possible from now on to their customers if they are to survive.
A version of this article appears in the print on July 13 2021, of The Himalayan Times.
