‘Silk
sarees!’ Pause. ‘For wedding.’ Pause. ‘For my daughter.’
The pride in
the voice of the mother could not have been missed by the hundreds of salesmen
on the silk sarees shop floor. The anointed salesman gave a confused grin at
the family, who were looking at the thousands of sarees arranged in the tall,
long shelves. He hunted for the ‘would be’ bride to gift his creepy grin but
found her busy on her phone, smashing the screen with her fingers.
‘Please take
a seat,’ said the salesman politely. As the men- the cashier father, the
supporting uncle and the excited grandfather took their seats, eagerly looking
at the multitude of colours splashed in front of them and discussing among
themselves which would best suit their pretty girl; the scrutinising mother,
the analytical aunt, the ever positive grandmother, the bored sister and the
worried ‘would be’ bride stood in front of their seats, eyes doing hip hop.
The salesman,
who went to bring the first lot of sarees- the best of the best sarees to
impress the family, to get them all interested, came back with a tall pile of
sarees- his selection, his pet pile. He placed them on the soft surface of the
table, picked the top saree from the pile, placed it carefully and gently like
it was a new born baby, opened it with pride, and showed off the grand work of
threads coiled in beautiful designs. His education on silk sarees was ready to
be tested as he got ready to answer the usual questions. The creepy grin was
back and he looked at the mother with great expectations. The major portion of
the sales training included how to quickly find out the decision maker in the
family and invariably it was the mother.
‘Madam...this
is the best quality of silk you can ever find. This colour will...’
‘Could you
please take that blue saree on the top row, the one above the dull red,’ said
the mother, who had already disliked the saree detailed in front of her. Her
eyes and mind had already gone for hunt and was back with its first prey.’
‘Madam...that
is not of the same quality as this...’ he wanted to first show off his pet pile
first.
‘It’s
ok...but first let me see how it is...’ the mother said calmly.
The salesman
saw no other way but to oblige. Leaving his pet pile of sarees, he took out the
one requested. A look of dislike and disgust emerged on the mother’s face. The
salesman felt quite pleased. He began to put the saree back to where it
belonged when,
‘Wait! Wait!
Open and show it,’ said the mother, voice squeaky. The aunt bypassed the
grandmother and stood near the mother now, both leaning forward with interest.
‘Look at the
colour combination....how can someone wear a pink and an orange combination
saree. Looks too bright and old fashioned, isn’t?’ asked the mother loudly, knowing
the aunt would support her statement.
‘Of course.
Who wears sarees like these nowadays??!! Could you please show us some new
designs?’
‘Wasn’t that
what I was trying to do in the first place?’ thought the salesman. ‘Sure Madam.
Look at this...Pink and yellow combination is the trend today...’
‘My daughter
already has a saree in that combination,’ replied the mother. ‘No pink
please...’
‘Oh!’ said
the salesman. ‘No problem. Look at this...orange and gold. It would look very
grand and elegant on your daughter.’
‘Is there
something in yellow?’ asked the mother not giving any attention.
‘What about
this orange?’ wondered the salesman to himself. ‘Sure. How about this?’ He picked
up a yellow from his pet pile.
‘Not this
yellow,’ said the aunt. ‘It’s like headlights. Show a shade darker.’
‘Yes yes...,’
spoke the grandmother. ‘This bright yellow used to be fashion in our days only.
Even we don’t wear this yellow now...’
‘Everyone
should wear sunglasses to see this I guess,’ joked the aunt garnering laughter
from everyone except the salesman. He managed a sheepish smile.
‘How about
this green here, Madam?’ The salesman put all his training into effect. He
threw open the dark green saree majestically.
Before the
mother could even consider the saree, there were immediate protests from the
others.
‘Didn’t our
neighbour’s daughter wear the same colour for her marriage? We would look like
we are copying her. No No...’ said the aunt.
‘Doesn’t
matter. If this saree is good, we should go for it,’ said the mother observing
the saree closely. ‘This is actually very good.’
The salesman
was surprised to see the mother coming to a decision so quickly. Was a new Guinness
record going to be created? He wondered.
‘Baap re!’ exclaimed the mother. ‘Rs
35,000. No No No...I asked you to show only sarees within 25, 000. Why are you
showing above that? Please show within the range and bring yellow sarees now!’
‘Sorry madam.
Sure...I’ll get a dark yellow.’
The salesman,
still brimming with interest and excitement, ran to the other end of the floor
to find the dark yellow the ladies wanted. The bored sister, slowly moved to
the fancy sarees section, trying to find her saree love.
‘What’s there
in these sarees? I mean- 30,000 for this one??!’ wondered the father.
‘We can get
more than 40 shirts in this amount,’ said the uncle, turning the saree 360
degrees hoping to find the secret behind the atrocious pricing.
‘And these women
wear it so rarely. What’s the point of spending so much when they aren’t even
going to put it to full use. My wife purchased a silk saree last year for
20,000 and wore it just once,’ complained the father. He could feel his credit
cards thumping in his pockets.
‘Stop
chattering,’ ordered the grandfather, who sat patiently looking at the
displayed sarees.
The salesman
was back with 5 dark yellow sarees which he opened and displayed in front of
the ladies one by one.
‘This colour
will suit the girl very nicely,’ said the salesman as a compliment.
‘This is amazing,’
said the mother. The grandmother immediately pulled that saree towards her to
have a closer look. The aunt touched the saree feeling the quality of the
material and gave a nod of approval.
‘This will
look very good on my girl,’ said the grandmother with a proud smile.
The father
and the uncle gave a wide smile.
‘Please no
yellow!’ said the girl suddenly, her sunk head floated above the phone for the
first time. ‘I don’t like yellow. Get anything but yellow.’
The mother
and aunt glanced at each other. The grandmother put the saree nearer to the
salesman with disappointment. The smile drained from the father and the uncle’s
face. It’s going to be a long day, they thought.
‘As you
heard, no yellow then,’ said the mother to the eager salesman.
‘You didn’t
even know your daughter hates yellow?’ the salesman spoke to himself.
‘No pink and
no yellow,’ said the mother.
‘No red. Red
is too common,’ said the aunt.
‘No black or
white. It’s inauspicious,’ said the grandmother.
‘I am getting
something in green. So please don’t get green...’ shouted the sister from the
other section.
‘No big
borders. No stones or any other type of embroidery stuff. Pure traditional
saree,’ added the mother.
The salesman
looked at the ladies, bewildered. ‘Sarees have to be only customized for these
ladies. It’s not a recipe to add whatever they like. It’s a saree....’ But all
he could manage to say was,
‘Of course,’ he
said leaving on his hunt again, repeating the requirements like a mantra in his
head.
‘Not a great
collection, is it?’ said the worried mother.
‘And who
asked the salesman’s opinion?’ commented the aunt.
‘Shall we go
to some other store?’ asked the mother looking at the father. ‘JK Silks?’
‘Parking
would be a pain there,’ said the father with a strong nod from the uncle. ‘What’s
wrong with this yellow one?’
‘Saree has to
be a saree, not dumbbells. Just look at the weight,’ said the mother pushing
the saree towards her husband. The father had already accepted defeat.
‘What do you
think of this peach colour one?’ asked the mother pointing at a saree.
‘Very nice,’
replied the father curtly.
‘Not as good
as this violet one, right?’ continued the mother.
‘Yes. If you
say so...,’ replied the father, slowly pulling out his mobile praying someone
should call him to save him from this risky conversation.
‘Pink?’ asked
the mother, understanding the father’s attitude.
‘Very nice,’
replied the father.
‘I didn’t
even show the saree,’ said the mother with anger. ‘From next time, I am not going
to come with you. You are of no use here.’
The father
shrugged helplessly. He had never dared disagree to his wife’s choice, but
agreeing had also become a sin.
‘Be patient.
Your daughter will get the best saree that you would have never imagined. Just
look at her- she is smart, intelligent, independent...how could she not get the
best saree? Don’t be hasty in choosing. Wait...analyse...think if your daughter
will be happy and then decide. Her happiness is the first priority. If she
doesn’t like the saree, then there is no point in forcing it on her. It would
be a loss to both her and the saree,’ advised the grandmother.
‘Exactly.
There are so many sarees here...I am sure she will like at least one of them,’
said the aunt.
‘I really
hope so,’ said the mother with a silent prayer.
Another
salesman hearing their conversation wondered if they were talking about a saree
or a boy for the girl.
The father
and the uncle slowly got up to let the ladies do their job. They knew they would
be summoned at the cash counter at the right time.
The mother
and the aunt took a walk around the floor to find the best choice for their
daughter.
‘What are you
doing?’ asked the grandmother seeing the daughter still busy on the phone.
‘Focus here.’
‘I am just
looking at sarees online to see if something attracts me. I’ll ask these people
here if they have the same one. Problem solved!’
‘Brilliant,’
appreciated the grandfather.
‘What
brilliant?! Nothing like looking at sarees in real and buying it. These online wonline will just put good pictures.
When you see them in reality, it would be worse than the worst.’
Silence
descended as the daughter saw the point.
The salesman
was back with the requested colours. He looked around to find the leading
ladies.
‘You show
us,’ said the daughter, taking interest for the first time.
After all the
sarees were displayed, the girl pointed her finger at a orange and green one with
blue borders and looked at her grandparents for their opinion.
‘This will
look so beautiful on you,’ said the grandmother very impressed. More impressed
was the salesman. At the same time, there was a growing fear in him, and his
fear came true the next second.
‘Beautiful?
She will look like our national flag. No...no...something else...,’ said the
mother, arriving back in station.
The next 2
hours was pure parliamentary stuff. One side picked a saree while the other
rejected on the first look. The table was covered by silk sarees instead of
table cloth. The mountain on the table was growing while the sarees on the
shelves were drastically reducing.
While the
mother shortlisted three sarees, the aunt had one, the grandmother had two and
the daughter had three on their shorlists.
‘Take away
all these sarees...and keep only the shortlisted ones,’ commanded the mother,
her eyes and neck still revolving and rotating around the shopfloor.
The salesman,
with relief that at least the ladies had arrived at a shortlist, slowly moved
the tower of sarees aside...
‘One minute,’
said the mother pulling out an orange saree from under the mounted pile. ‘Wow!
This looks so beautiful....’
The daughter
was immediately beside the mother...so was the aunt and the grandmother. The
bored sister was back with her selection in hand.
‘This saree
is like made for each other,’ said the grandmother.
‘I am sure
you will look like a princess in this,’ said the grandfather.
‘This has all
the qualities that would suit you,’ said the aunt to the daughter with immense
happiness.
‘Orange and
gold combination- you are going to rock!’ said the sister.
The daughter
looked lovingly at the saree, imagining herself in it. The mother was
overwhelmed for words.
The salesman
clenched his teeth with a frown look. The orange saree was from his pet pile, one
of the firsts which he had shown the family, which no one had even noticed then
but now...
The salesman
smiled sharing the happiness. At least the family had found what they had come
for.
The daughter
stood in front of the mirror, adorning the saree, with the family looking at
her in awe.
‘You are
looking so beautiful...’ said the mother standing beside her daughter, looking
at the mirror.
‘Great! Call
your father...and let’s finalise it...,’ said the grandfather briskly.
A missed
call, and the men were back. The daughter showed the saree with excitement and
a slight shyness.
A voice
erupted from a little distance. ‘What about this blue one?’ asked the mother
pointing at a blue saree being displayed for another family.
‘That looks
even better,’ said the daughter, running to her mother, leaving the orange
saree behind. The ladies were back in business.
The father
and the uncle went back to have their 7th coffee.
The
frustrated salesman put himself together. He could feel it. The family was
definitely going to zero down on the orange one at the end again. The number of sarees they were going to see
was immaterial. What they needed was just another 2 hours to revert to that
decision, satisfaction that no other saree was better than their orange one. Controlling himself from not banging his head,
he walked to the place where the ladies stood looking at his fellow salesman’s
pet pile.
A family might
even allow a girl to choose the boy of her life, but never her wedding saree.