The Spy

Quote: "A place for everything, everything in its place."

“Pravinbhai," I glanced at the list in my hand and said softly into the phone, “please send these items -- 250 gms sugar, tea packet … no, not the usual 1 kg, just 50 gms will do, yes, yes, I’m sure, 100 gms toor daal and 250 gms the usual rice …yes, Pravinbhai everything is fine, please send these today.” I ended the call, well aware that hubby dearest was peering at me over the newspaper.

“Everything all right, dear?” asked Ajay going back to his paper.

I turned toward the kitchen nonchalantly. “Um hmm.”

His curiosity got the better of him and he set the paper aside. “Okay. Tell me, what is it? Why have you ordered the monthly groceries in this manner?”

“This manner?” I batted my eyelashes at him as innocently as I could.

Now he looked positively piqued. “Tara, stop these childish games. Just tell me why have you have ordered so less. Why not the usual 5 kgs of sugar, 2 of daal and 10 of rice? Hasn’t my salary cheque cleared in the bank?

I smiled and came around to give him a quick peck on his cheek. “Relax, will you? I had run out of groceries and needed a few things to run for a couple of days. This month I don’t want to order everything from Pravinbhai’s store.”

He looked genuinely surprised. In the three years of our marriage I had always ordered my monthly groceries from Pravinbhai’s store. “Why? Is something wrong? Did he send bad stuff last time or overcharge on something?”

“Oh no, that’s not it.” That notion was actually unthinkable! Pravinbhai had a standing reputation of over 30 years for providing quality products as well as fair price. My reason was purely selfish. “Actually, WonderMart is opening up on Sunday and they’re offering great discounts on purchase of products worth 2000 rupees. They have even promised free home delivery.” I paused and looked at Ajay, searching for the effects of my proclamation.

He had a skeptical look. Ajay rarely wavered from his set habits and although ordering groceries was my department, he was clearly not in favour of my decision. However, being aware of my stubborn nature, he chose not to comment and instead went back to his paper.

Somehow his indifference needled me. I’m not sure why but I felt he was gearing up to say “I told you so” without having said so.

I brushed off the thought. I had a fun-filled shopping weekend to look forward to and nothing was going to spoil it for me.

*****

WonderMart did open as promised on Sunday and although I wasn’t the first one in, I was perhaps among the first hundred customers or so. Rubbing shoulders while shopping was an irritant but for now, it would have to do.

I pushed the store’s brand new cart across its gleaming floor, admiring the bright and trendy interiors. The rows were stacked and well-organized. I kept my pace slow, taking time to choose what I needed. However this was easier said than done as I had to avoid bumping into other restless housewives like myself.

Moreover, I couldn’t decide which brand of stuff I wanted, as almost all had good offers to attract the customer. For instance, my regular washing powder had a free liquid-soap refill along with it that I didn’t use. Another brand of washing powder came with a larger packet of free liquid soap that I used regularly. To choose between the two was a traumatic decision. I landed up putting both in my cart.

About half-way through my shopping I had the eerie feeling of being observed. I glanced over my shoulder to find a bespectacled, uniformed lady glaring back at me. She seemed to be the store supervisor. Her overall attitude and demeanor irritated me and I glared back defiantly at her, at which she looked away.

I went on and reached the aisle where lentils were stocked. Arranged in neat packets, the colourful display was a treat to my tired eyes. I smiled and picked up a yellow lentils packet. I ran my thumb over it, trying to get a feel of the lentils inside. Of course the plastic obstructed any sensation and for a short while I was back at Pravinbhai’s store where he would place samples of different lentils in my palms and I’d rub them to feel their smooth texture. I came out of my reverie with a snap and picked up the lentils I needed with a slight guilt denting my disposition.

As I went on further, I once again had the same feeling of being watched and this time I turned around quite abruptly, hoping to give the supervisor a blood-chilling stare. Instead, to my unbridled surprise I saw that the person who was looking at me was none other than Pravinbhai!

“Pravinbhai,” I stammered, feeling as if I had been caught shop-lifting, “What are you doing here?”

The old man's wise eyes twinkled mischievously. “Shopping, like you and everybody else.”

“Um..ok,” I managed awkwardly. After all what can you tell a person who was losing his customers and possibly his livelihood? Suddenly I wasn’t feeling too good. “I’ll see you then.”

He nodded a bit sadly and moved on. He had no cart; obviously he wasn’t shopping for anything. I saw the supervisor take off after him and suddenly I was terribly annoyed. Although I wasn’t related to this man, I couldn’t see him at the end of any sort of abuse that was likely to be meted out by an overzealous employee.

I followed them around the corner and found the supervisor questioning Pravinbhai. “He’s with me,” I said when she asked him if he wanted a shopping basket. She glared at me and I glared back. When she left, I found Pravinbhai smiling at me.

“Pravinbhai, you shouldn’t be here spying like this,” I lectured him.

He showed me his full set of genuine teeth. “I wanted to see how these supermarkets fleece their customers.”

“Fleece? I don’t see how they can do that. All the prices are equal to what we buy at your store.”

He nodded and came over to peer into my cart. “Dishwashing liquid with a free bathing soap. That cost you Rs.75.50. I sell that for Rs.67.50 minus the bathing soap that you don’t really use or need.” He picked out my choice of washing powders. The one I used and the one I didn’t. “Interesting. You paid Rs.219 for these two powders and the liquid soap. I could give the same for Rs.215. And if I may point out, since you are going to use only your regular washing powder and liquid soap that would cost you only Rs.115. Rs.100 minus for the other powder.”

Pravinbhai’s words of wisdom penetrated the layers of my brain cells to reach my reasoning department. Together we took stock of what I had loaded in my cart and I realized I was over spending by about Rs.750 on products I really didn’t need or use.

“What do I do now?” I asked him penitently, like a child seeking advice from a father.

“You could just leave it here.” He laughed and winked at me. “Let them do the dirty work of putting it all back.”

I chuckled and looked down at my cart. I reached in to lift a packet of biscuits. “This is for saving face at the counter.”

He accompanied me to the cash counter where the cashier almost scoffed at my purchase. Pravinbhai dug into his wallet before I could reach my purse and handed the money.

“I don’t have change, would you like to buy a chewing gum packet?” the cashier asked.

Pravinbhai smiled. “Take the gum for yourself my boy. You have here a place for everything and everything in its place but you don’t have place for competition.”

I remember that I laughed all the way home at the look on the cashier’s face.

Epilogue:

A year has passed by. WonderMart is still around but its aisles are grimy and its staff lax. Pravinbhai has spruced up his grocery store and hasn’t lost a customer to date. In fact he often has spies from WonderMart coming over to understand the secret of his success.

I think they don’t realize that the secret behind his success is his belief in himself.

Lastly, I don't think I have to say this: Since that day, I only shop at Pravinbhai's store.

The End

Word Count: 1512

Author’s Note: This item is the official entry on behalf of Team India for the August 2007 round of

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