The Great Indian Sale makes shops redundant
It was the month of May, that I am quite sure of, and the weather was of course, not as temperamental as it, these days chooses to be; the heat wave at its peak, and the coffee table in squalor with newspapers shrouding it like some visually noisy spreadsheets, when it all began. The front page of the newspaper that held my attention chanted “Grofers”. Never heard of the name...pictures of all possible grocery items popping up as if one was wearing 3-D glasses. Groceries available in all brand names under the same umbrella with dish soaps, daals etc. and etc. carrying Grofers’ own line as well, and with the manifold deals, proclaiming with pioneering spirit, buy 2 and get 2 free. Fifty percent off basmati rice, Kashmiri mirch priced at half the rate of the same quantity of sindhoor sold at one of those weekly markets, entirely transfixing the roads, bustling with shopper’s high on enthusiasm.
So Grofers, supposed to rhyme with Grocers, I should guess, boast prices 25% to 50 % less than off-the-counter purchases, and if it is Golden Lottery Day then even 90% off from sugar to spices. And if one adds more and more items to one’s cart, a Privileged Card is accorded to the buyer, allowing the person to avail of more of more, while making mindful consumption superfluous. At a simple glance: what one would purchase for 2000 rupees comes at 1,400, trolleys its way home with express delivery, at a time-zone suitable to most of us now rushing through life 24/7, without pausing to look into the vital biological necessity of pacing the inhaling and exhaling breathing process, despite having our band-like, red-alert watches, at all hours, dispensing their made-to-order, immaculate wellness instructions. So which fool, would not go in for the kill ?!
Grofers, self-deciding for me to install the App, after which came Shah Rukh Khan’s “Big Basket” for farm-fresh vegetables, individually wrapped in meshed bags, knotted on the top for the potatoes and tomatoes to not roll over the floor, besides providing a bird’s eye view of the portable kitchen garden. Of course, “one bites the bait” and with automatic arithmetic, counts not the pennies saved, but the solid currency earned. Pleased as Punch that one is, to a scalable extent, one-up on the spiralling inflation that till now, could not be shushed or cast aside. A Climate Change in Home Economics! Speaking of which, with October making its breathless foray into its second week, a Union Minister with a, “we have worked our way up to the post” smugness clarifies that inflation is a delusion trumped-up from well-known quarters. If the economy was in shambles, how does one account for two or three recently released movies generating 120 crores on the very first day they hit the silver screen?!
The picture could not be clearer: people had disposable money to have the cinema experience...a tub of buttery popcorn and a jumbo tumbler of fountain cola that cost as much as the movie ticket! Wonder how he forgot the hoards of jobless and those holding down jobs not being paid for months on end, and what about those receiving salaries on the due date, working for measly sums not enough to tide them through the month?! One could go on how onions had flown off our daily menu, its sky-rising prices, literally bringing tears to the eyes. A mind for numbers we all do not have... but is not this stand-on-your-head contention by our Mantriji making monkeys of us all?! Seven days back, I had some time on hand, and being in the vicinity strolled down, with the weather now affable, to Khan Market. The display windows of the shops were all dressed-up, dolled-up for Diwali yet wore this forlorn look. Walked into Swarovski, do so out of habit, with an Alice-in-wonderland expression and not a customer inside, despite some luring deal of the, “buy this and get a heaven-sent crystal ball” genre. It was almost the same scenario at the rest of the stores. Strange that there was no parking space with shops appearing as if they belonged to some ghost town. Audis, Mercedes, Jaguars, Endeavours and customised Suvs—what exactly were they doing in a market, where there were no takers?!
Mehra Electronics is a showroom we, my husband and I, have been going to since ever. There is no electric appliance from the toaster to the coffee-maker to the televisions—that has not been procured from there. Had nothing to buy but thought Mr. Mehra, the proprietor and a gentleman to the hilt, could throw some light on these shops that bore the presence of a jilted, left-at-the-altar bride. It was simple he explained, with Amazon taking over, buying products en masse, offering something for everyone of every segment, and Easy Monthly Installments largely coming with no interest, the retailers days were numbered. They were closing shutter, putting shops on rent for some Bistro, Brasserie, Delicatessen to set up business; the rent received would be far more than their selling power, therefore earnings. Yes, that was a straightforward, transparent elucidation! And yes, Eateries where one can handcraft one’s own smoothie or savour on a brownie, sip creamy cold coffee, while making a mental note to skip supper. Such venues favoured by the fashion set. Khan Market aside, so is the case everywhere, in all bazaars.
The Amazon “Great Indian festival” is here to stay; the curtains are falling on shops, a mile a minute. Going to the bazaar and ambling around-- the magic of touch, stroking one’s hands over a fabric for the sheer feel, shoehorning a pair of boots, soon to be history. Yet, as they say, “The show must go on”... Happy Diwali!
Audis, Mercedes, Jaguars, Endeavours and customised Suvs—what exactly were they doing in a market, where there were no takers?
Dr Renée Ranchan writes on socio-psychological issues, quasi-political matters and concerns that touch us all