Markets in India
Vegetable markets in India are a messy place. The ones that retail the produce are less dirty. The wholesalers leave a lot to be desired. It was my first visit to the Alandur wholesale market and it brought back memories of a similar shopping establishment of my childhood called ‘Monda market’ located far away in the twin cities of Hyderabad and Secunderabad in another state. My wife had asked me if I could help with the weekly purchase and I agreed.
The entry to the Alandur market is through a narrow road and I had to leave my vehicle by the way side, on this road that meanders through the locality bordering the market. There are small shops selling betel nuts, vermillon, turmeric powder and many such items at the gate. It was Saturday and towards noon and the place was filled with humanity jostling about, making their way in and out of here. We were close to the end of a group trying to gain entry into this place. A burqa clad woman behind me asked me to surge forward. I pointed to the throng ahead and offered that she could go ahead and try to succeed where I was failing. This was no time for fights as everyone knew the predicament of everybody else.
Once past the gate, we were in a thoroughfare that reminded me of a walled-city with sellers selling their wares. There were vegetable sellers, and grain merchants on both sides, lining up the narrow corridor. The crowd here was seemingly less as compared to what we had been through thus far. We turned to our left and a way seemed to open up through the walls. We found ourselves at a wide hall. The area was filled with shops, larger compared to the small vendors at the gates, and at the thoroughfare, selling several varieties of vegetables. At many places, the floor was strewn with vegetables that might have fallen down from a buyer’s bag, or, pushed down from their baskets, carelessly, by people.
We stopped at one shop were a busy seller was weighing scales, filling bags, and vociferously calculating the cost of
The entry to the Alandur market is through a narrow road and I had to leave my vehicle by the way side, on this road that meanders through the locality bordering the market. There are small shops selling betel nuts, vermillon, turmeric powder and many such items at the gate. It was Saturday and towards noon and the place was filled with humanity jostling about, making their way in and out of here. We were close to the end of a group trying to gain entry into this place. A burqa clad woman behind me asked me to surge forward. I pointed to the throng ahead and offered that she could go ahead and try to succeed where I was failing. This was no time for fights as everyone knew the predicament of everybody else.
Once past the gate, we were in a thoroughfare that reminded me of a walled-city with sellers selling their wares. There were vegetable sellers, and grain merchants on both sides, lining up the narrow corridor. The crowd here was seemingly less as compared to what we had been through thus far. We turned to our left and a way seemed to open up through the walls. We found ourselves at a wide hall. The area was filled with shops, larger compared to the small vendors at the gates, and at the thoroughfare, selling several varieties of vegetables. At many places, the floor was strewn with vegetables that might have fallen down from a buyer’s bag, or, pushed down from their baskets, carelessly, by people.
We stopped at one shop were a busy seller was weighing scales, filling bags, and vociferously calculating the cost of