The First Frenzied Shopping

 

Episode 2

I remember rushing to my paternal house, bang beside Gariahat market, my husband, daughter and I. We had a long list of items to buy – grocery, meat, fish, vegetables – for the next 21 days. People thronged the market, buying things in bulk. There was a sense of urgency in the air. The stationery shops had a crowd of people in front of them and my husband, Jeet, despaired seeing the queue.

“It will take us at least an hour here,” he mumbled.

I smiled wickedly at him and called out in a pleading voice to the shopkeeper, “Shambhu da, here is my list. Should I leave it behind with you and go to buy fish? You can keep them ready?”

“Sure sister. Just give me the list. I will keep it ready,” he smiled affectionately. He knows me since my diaper days. There are five stationery shops below and opposite my paternal house. They are our tenants.

The fish market was overcrowded.

“Impossible to get inside,” remarked Jeet, “And I’m sure the prices will be double.”

I kept on walking until I came to the shop from where I buy fish regularly. The fish-seller calls me “Didi”. So does most of the shops where I shop from every Saturday, alone. This was Jeet’s first experience of a full week’s (in this case two weeks) of shopping.

“Here, I have kept these fish for you Didi,” he said holding up two big fish.

“Weigh them. And how much are those for?” I said pointing to a type of small fish that my daughter Cheeni loves. It’s called pabda. I love it too. So does my dad and so did my granddad.

After buying fish, we went to buy the poultry and vegetables. We had to buy a big shopping bag on the way back. I have nearly grown up in this market. I can feel its pulse. On that day, the pulse ran fast frenzied by fear.

We returned to the grocery shop and I asked for my items.

Just as I nearly got the items packed and was paying for them, I heard my name. My Mom was calling from the first floor window.

“Please get some curd, milk and bread,” she said.

My dad peeped out from beside her and said, “And some sanitizers. You place the order. I’ll come down to collect the items.”

I considered how safe it would be for him (73 years old and a chain smoker) to get into the crowded market.

“No way,” I told him and added a glare, “You stay there. We will get it.”

There was shortage of bread and sanitizers. We deposited the first round of bags and went out for the second round. This time bread, curd, sanitizers and my mom’s medicines. In the meantime, I got a text from my mentor saying that I have to appear for an interview in her new team later in that day. Time can be anytime.

We somehow managed to finish buying everything that we needed in the next two hours and felt a bit like Robinson Crusoe (stranded on an island with only the supplies of a wrecked ship). We had enough supplies to last us at least two weeks.

By that time, my sister and her husband too had come down to meet our parents. We didn’t know when we would meet them or each other again.  

“Be good,” my mom said to my daughter Cheeni, suppressing a sob, while seeing us off.

Cheeni kissed her after a quick hug.

As the car moved away, I looked one last time at the market gate, still crowded by people.

Back home, I had only managed to get the raw items inside the freezer when my interview call came. I still now don’t know how I qualified in that interview. However, I did and happy with the prospect of a new role, I started on my lockdown journey.