Pinto Has An Idea

by Rajeev Saxena

  ‘Fine, if I can buy the groceries, why not snacks as well?’

  Today Hansraj, the dosa guy, was a little late. ‘Sorry, sir,’ he apologized to Pinto at the gate. I got a big order in Viman Nagar.’

  ‘That’s okay, give me four masala dosas.’

  ‘Sure, sir, please take my cell phone number. Next time you can call me so that you don’t have to wait.’

  ‘Sure, that makes sense.’

  Harsha was excited, ‘Mummy, Papa bought us dosas!’

  Lavanya was equally excited but contained herself. ‘So what, he has just bought dosas, not Chappan Bhog.’

  ‘Let’s eat!’ the little girl said eagerly.

  ‘I don’t want any, it’s oily.’

  ‘All right, I’ll eat it then.’

  Harsha asked, ‘Papa, why can’t the thela man come to our doorstep? He has a wheeled cart.’

  Pinto smiled, ‘Beta, our society management does not allow strangers in, so we have to go to the main gate. Now we have cars to go buy things in, but when I was your age, these vendors were part of our life.’

  ‘Really, Papa? Tell me how it was.’

  Pinto began, ‘My mother was totally dependent on thela vendors and pheriwalas.’

  ‘What is a pheriwala?’

  ‘They keep things in a big cloth bundle, carry it on their heads and roam around the streets looking to sell.’

  ‘How do they carry big bags on their heads?’

  ‘They have practice. They’d bring fresh vegetables and fruits, bangles, saris, and sometimes, very interesting household things such as “everything for one rupee”—like in the dollar stores I remember buying from in America.’

  ‘So how did you know a thela had arrived? Did they call you?’

  ‘Beta, there were no phones those days. I mean, there were, but only the super-rich could afford them. Each thela guy had a different style of announcing their arrival, sometimes by just creating a clever saying with their words, or by shouting a slogan that was totally unrelated to items they sold. These tactics were peculiar enough for people to recognize who was coming.’

  ‘That’s interesting. Can you show me how they shouted?’

  ‘I’ll try. Puran, the chaat guy, would sing out, ‘O chakachak!’, which meant, ‘Hey, I’ve got something spick and span for you.’ Khushiram, a shaved-ice vendor, would shout, ‘Thande ho lo!’ which meant ‘Get chilled’. The cotton candy guy would announce ‘Burhia ke baal’.

  ‘What is that?’

  ‘Old lady’s hair,’ which it resembled in a way, all light and fluffy. It sounds disgusting now, but it was so sweet and soft to bite into! On top of that, he’d tell stories to kids about how he went to a jungle where there was an old lady who offered her hair to him to be sold. We really believed him!’

  ‘Your friends were silly. But it must have been fun! Tell me more.’

  ‘Raju used to sell spicy snacks made of garbanzo beans flattened and fried, carrying them in a kanwar.’

  ‘What is a kanwar?’

  ‘It’s a bamboo pole with baskets at both ends. He would register his presence by singing a song about his roadside snack, which was called ‘chana jor garam’. In one basket he’d have the snack and on the other side he’d carry his three-year-old handicapped daughter, a victim of polio. One could see clearly in his eyes how much he loved his daughter.’

  ‘Just like you and me.’

  ‘Yes, of course, but I pray to God that nobody ever shares his fate. If any customer started talking to his daughter, or to him about his daughter, he’d just wait for them to finish before moving on to other roads, without worrying about how many more of them he’d have to walk that day. He told us his wife had passed away while giving birth to their daughter. He didn’t marry again as who’d take care of his daughter? Some people believed in his story and some did not, but a lot of customers bought his snack in sympathy.’

  ‘Sad story.’

  ‘An ice cream guy, Lila, would have a big cylinder of ice cream. He’d cut it, and sell it by weight on a disposable leaf plate.

  ‘I can’t imagine someone selling ice cream by weight, not by scoop!’

  ‘It was very tasty. Lila was an old guy and apparently his kids didn’t survive, so in his loneliness, he enjoyed bringing joy to the neighbourhood kids. I loved his homemade ice cream. My mother would give me a ten-paise coin and he’d give me a huge slice for it.’

  ‘I’d love to eat on a leaf plate.’

  ‘You know, there were some kids who would not have money, but Lila would still give them a little bit of ice cream for free. His concept was, he could not disappoint any kid irrespective of whether they had money or not. He said all kids were sweet and innocent. He could see God in them.’

  ‘My teacher also says that.’

  ‘Well, they were not really… at least those I grew up with. Some kids would use their money to buy other things, such as cotton candy, and would join the other kids when Lila came, saying they didn’t have money, and eat ice cream for free. I always wondered how Lila made a profit.’

  ‘Who else do you remember?’ Harsha prompted him, her eyes big with fascination.

  Lavanya jumped in, ‘See, how nice it is to spend time with Harsha—rather than in your courthouse.’

  Pinto continued, ‘Lampat… ’

  ‘What a name, what does it mean?’

  ‘Wanton or shameless… As the name suggested, Lampat seemed almost a devil to children. He used to sell masala papad. He’d sprinkle spices heavily on the top of the papad. The masala was so tasty; it was the only reason we bought the papad. The guy was so heartless, he wouldn’t budge if you asked him to add a little more masala. He’d plainly say, “Take it or leave it.”’

  ‘Would you still buy?’

  ‘Of course, because of the masala. I’d go with my grandfather and ask for more masala separately. He couldn’t say no then.’

  ‘That must have felt good!’

  ‘The balloon guy, Shankar, would also sell some flutes made of cheap bamboo, so his method of calling was simply to play his flute.’

  ‘You really enjoyed your childhood, didn’t you, Papa?’

  ‘Yes, I had fun. Another guy, who was very popular among the kids, was a candy man. He’d bring thick, colourful candy rolls strung on a bamboo pole. He’d make different figurines from the sugar roll by stretching it into smaller strips. You could order a bird, a doll, a peacock, or what-not. It was just sheer luck to find him as he never made any sound. But,’ Pinto cut himself short, ‘enough for today, Harsha. Why don’t you study something?’

  ‘Okay, Papa.’

  Harsha went to her room. Pinto turned towards Lavanya. ‘I really wondered how those pheriwalas managed to sell even bras to ladies in conservative societies. It appeared to be a very popular item.’

  Lavanya smiled, ‘I also grew up in that atmosphere. I also miss it. This gated complex looks so artificial. It’s like a jail.’

  ‘If you like a particular thela, I’ll take his phone number or tell the security guard to inform me when he comes around.’

  ‘Can’t depend on the security guard, that way is only as reliable as the security guard’s memory. Better to take the vendor’s phone number.’

  ‘Is there anybody specific in mind?’

  ‘Yes, the dosa guy.’

  ‘I already took his phone number.’

  Pinto and Lavanya ordered dosas a few times. After a while they found them too oily so they decided to stop buying the fried pancakes.

  When the dosa guy didn’t hear from Pinto, he started calling him. ‘Saab, do you need anything?’

  He started calling so often that Pinto had to change his phone number. Pinto was irritated, ‘I swear, I’m never ever going to exchange numbers with any thela vendor again.

  Pinto discussed it in the next society meeting. Mrs Verma said, ‘I think all of us love these vendors. But people have young children. It’s not safe to allow them inside the society. You are a scientist, why don�
��t you find a solution?’

  Pinto laughed, ‘I think you know more about me than I do.’

  Mrs Verma still had some bitterness left over from the last conversation, ‘Well, take the challenge.’

  Pinto went to his friend Srinivas. Srinivas ran a small company which built electronic devices for enterprises. Often on Sundays, they’d play badminton together and then go for a cold coffee. Pinto asked, ‘So what’s new these days?’

  Srinivas always shared something exciting. ‘I have come up with a device which checks liquid-levels and keeps sending signals to our central server. Taxi and truck rental companies are using it for keeping an eye on petrol and diesel usage. You know, drivers steal the fuel sometimes.’

  ‘Pretty interesting. Are you getting a lot of demand?’

  ‘You know, I am not able to keep up the supply. Petrol is expensive so everyone wants to save its usage. And I also found one more use. I altered the system a little and installed it in my housing society.’

  ‘For what? Do they steal fuel from generators as well?’

  ‘Well, I hadn’t thought about that! Probably, we can use it there as well. For now, they are using it for tracking water misuse. Sometimes, residents find leaks in their plumbing, or just keep their water hoses running in the garden. The Municipality Corporation diligently collects water tax but does not supply water. We are having to buy water from tankers but these shameless fellows don’t care.’

  ‘Wow! That’s a fantastic idea.’

  ‘India is a great country. The sad part is that nobody thinks of systematic preservation, there is no prudence.’

  ‘I know. Whenever there is a sudden scarcity of an item, they ration it. Until then, everybody wastes copious quantities of water every day. By the way, how does the society send signals?’

  ‘Through cell phone.’

  ‘I think… in that case, I’ve some more work for you.’

  ‘What?’

  Pinto described the thela problem to Srinivas and asked, ‘Can we create a tracking system for cell phones? If we know the location of a cell phone, we basically know the location of a vendor.’

  Srinivas said, ‘Cell phones are not highly accurate. If we install a GPS device, that’ll give you precise information.’

  Pinto knew the rules of business. ‘Hey! Accuracy doesn’t matter here. Thela folks won’t have money to buy devices.’

  Srinivas agreed, ‘Makes sense. So we just need two things to start the system. A user-friendly mobile app where you can add the vendors of your choice and track them and then spend some good money to advertise.’

  ‘I’ll find an investor,’ said Pinto confidently. ‘Imran has a lot of black money. He’d be happy to invest.’

  They named their business ‘Ghumantu’. Ghumantu was the name of a nomadic tribe that never stayed in one place, they kept moving around in search of food and shelter. Imran set up a team and said, ‘Register popular thelas at every nook and corner for free. Also distribute a sticker saying ‘Ghumantu-Enabled’ to be displayed on thelas.’

  Srinivas thought to mention, ‘Keep in mind that the system will work with smartphones only.’

  Imran laughed, ‘Thanks to Chinese manufacturers, everyone has a cheap smartphone.’

  Very soon, Ghumantu became the talk of the town. People could order in advance and track their thela in real-time. Pinto had brought technology to really poor people. The thela-wallahs didn’t have to pay a single penny for joining the service, just a small cut for every order. They did not mind that, as their sales increased multifold, and residents were saving a lot of time.

  Politicians grabbed the opportunity very fast and Pinto was felicitated by every political party. He was invited for interviews by several local and national TV and radio stations. People who didn’t even know him were talking about him on TV channels.

  Lavanya switched on the TV for the evening news. She knew they were going to talk about Ghumantu.

  ‘What is Pappu doing on TV?’ Lavanya was puzzled.

  Pinto was also confused, ‘He is the same grocer who fought with me when I caught him red-handed selling expired tomato sauce to a kid.’

  Pappu was saying on the channel, ‘What a great person Pinto sir is! He never buys samosa from anywhere else other than from my shop. And he is really a kind-hearted person. He gave a hundred rupees to a beggar once.’

  Lavanya glowered at Pinto, ‘Did you?’

  ‘Oh no, I gave him only ten rupees.’

  Lavanya looked at the TV again, ‘Oh, man, now Shaji is coming on TV. All these guys are becoming celebrities because of you. Isn’t he the same guy who had flies in the milk he sold?’

  ‘And then he came to our house in the evening threatening us that we shouldn’t tell anybody about it. Let’s see what this bugger says.’

  Shaji boasted, ‘Pinto sir frequents our shop for ice cream, such a great man.’

  ‘Isn’t that Mrs Malhotra, the primary school principal?’ Lavanya asked Pinto, still watching the screen.

  The woman was saying into the camera, ‘Pinto sir’s daughter studies in our school. We are proud of him.’

  Pinto was furious. ‘How can she say that?’ he asked. ‘I merely got some forms from her school for Harsha. I haven’t even decided about the admission!’

  Lavanya said amusedly, ‘And here comes Mr Tawade, the officer who was giving us a hard time in importing solar panels, and in passing the building-plan alterations.’

  Mr Tawade could be seen telling the media, ‘After seeing Mr Pinto’s passionate proposal, I sped up all the approvals for him for his solar panel project. I’m a small guy but feel proud of my contribution in making him successful.’

  Pinto had suddenly became a star.

  The Ghumantu technology became extremely popular very soon. Over time, they made several enhancements as well. Customers used the application to mark their favourite thela. When it came into the vicinity, the cell phone would alert them. As a customer, one could establish triggers like, ‘Send me an SMS if this dosa-wallah is in my area between 3 and 4:00 p.m.’ Similarly, based on one’s settings, an SMS was sent to the thela-wallah that customers in a particular area were interested in his wares at a particular time.

  Pinto asked Lavanya,’Are you happy now?’

  And then came some frivolity between them. ‘Thanks for doing things for me,’ said Lavanya. ‘But I’m sad as well.’

  ‘Why? Because I’ll start my courthouse again?’

  ‘No, whenever you start your courthouse, I’ll send you to buy groceries.’

  ‘To what purpose?’

  ‘Because I don’t want you to know that I’ve become a regular at some thelas. I’ve also gained some weight.’

  ‘Man has created technology for our convenience. It’s up to you to use it intelligently and sensibly. Men invented guns for protection, not for killing each other, but they are being used for the latter. So, create a balance in using Ghumantu.’

  FOURTEEN

  O

  ne day, Lavanya gave the grocery list to Pinto to get things from the superstore. As usual Pinto gave the order to Gupta. As usual, Pinto delivered the purchases to Lavanya. In a matter of minutes, she came fuming down the hallway, ‘What is this?’

  ‘A plastic bag?’

  ‘Not an ordinary plastic bag, a bag from Gupta’s shop!’

  Pinto knew there was no point in hiding things. Gupta had left a bag in from his shop by mistake. The secret was unmasked.

  Pinto accepted it, ‘I don’t like shopping for groceries, so I gave the job to Gupta.’

  ‘You were making a fool of me.’

  ‘Not deliberately, though.’

  ‘I thought there was something fishy going on, but never mentioned it as I trusted you.’ ‘How does trust come into shopping?’ ‘I feel betrayed. How can you play with your family’s health for your own comfort?’

  ‘Health?’

  ‘Have you seen his fridge? It’s full of all types of shit.’

  �
�Disgusting. But, you know, when you were not able to find any difference in the taste, how does it matter?’

  The damage was done. What was the use of crying over spilt milk? They didn’t talk to each other for two days.

  A couple of days later, Pinto found a pamphlet tucked into his morning newspaper. The superstore had started delivery of groceries in a 5-km range. Pinto ran downstairs to share the news, ‘Darling, the problem is solved! Merlon Superstore has started a delivery service. Give me this week’s list. Let me try it.’

  Lavanya was still upset. ‘I’ve got the groceries. I don’t need anything.’

  ‘Hey, we need to try this! It’ll make our lives easier.’

  ‘All right, I forgot the fresh cream and paneer. Harsha was asking for paneer makhani so I need those.’

  ‘Sure thing, so easy, they are guaranteeing delivery in two hours.’

  Pinto dialled the superstore. A sweet-spoken woman responded, ‘How can I help you?’

  ‘I want to order some groceries.’

  ‘Sure, sir, the minimum order is 500 rupees.’

  ‘Oh really, let me rework my list. I’ll call you back.’

  A bit disappointed, Pinto went to Lavanya again, ‘Quickly, tell me some more items you need. We need to add items to make it 500 rupees’ worth.’

  ‘Okay, still, it’s not bad. Add ghee, oil and some fruits. That’d do.’

  ‘They don’t deliver vegetables and fruits.’

  ‘Oh, then add cashewnuts.’

  Pinto ordered it again.

  In one hour, the delivery boy was at the door.

  Pinto was joyful. The delivery boy handed over a piece of paper, ‘Sir, please sign that. It’s because we were out out of fresh cream and have replaced Amul paneer with the Chanak brand.’

  Lavanya overheard. ‘That’s a local brand. It’s very hard to chew. My daughter doesn’t like that.’

  Pinto was extremely angry. ‘We ordered all sorts of groceries because we wanted these two items badly.’

  ‘Sorry, sir.’

  ‘I’m afraid the other items are of no use to me.’

  ‘Sir, as per our policy, we can take them back. There won’t be any charge.’