Joys of Lucknow V

1) At a Handicraft shop in Lucknow, we ask for the price of a shawl. The attendant manning the counter lifts his chin up holding the heavy lower lip slightly outwards and says, "Sadhe saat sau!" The other attendant interprets the rather difficult sound as 750/-. I raise a doubt claiming he might have meant 450/- (sadhe chaar sau). Within a second, the first attendant let his precious paan ki gilauri go down his throat, and clarified, "Sadhe saat sau!" Then, after a brief pause, he muttered, "Chaar rupaye ka nuksaan kara diya apne," lamenting the loss of the gilauri. Amidst a burst of laughter all around, I reminded him, "Teen sau rupaye bachane ke liye, apne..." Easily, the high point of the last day of a horrible year.

 

2) This hard-working and mild-mannered old man sat there in Hazratganj on a cold night making beautiful wire-bicycles in various sizes. The largest one costs only 50 rupees.

 

3) As I ventured into the soul-stirring freshness of Lucknow ki gilauri right after visiting once again the mesmerizing and unique monument of Sibtainabad ka Imambada, walking along the busy Hazratganj street, a girl, looking reasonably pretty through her helmet, stopped me to ask where the parking was. I raised my chin and held the by-now-voluminous juice of the gilauri within my lower jaw, thought for a minute whether I should go into the details, then deciding against it, only said, "age hai." She paused for a while, stayed confused, then added that she was wondering if this (there were a few scooters parked right there) was parking itself. Knowing that it wasn't, I repeated the routine, thought about my ten-rupee investment, thought about the gentleman from the handicraft shop, considered telling her exactly where the parking was, yet privileged the joys of the gilauri, repeating myself, "age hai!" She gave me what could be identified as a dirty look. I have to be more generous to myself. As she stood confused waiting for the place to turn into a parking, annoyed with my 'type' that I didn't look like, I couldn't control a smile that mysteriously turned into a laughter. I turned back and raised my hand apologizing through gestures, but didn't let the gilauri go waste