We have been busy moving into our new home the last 3 weeks. In order to minimize contact with the outside world, we have taken heavily to ecommerce and online shopping. Initially, only food items were available online. This meant that we had to still visit shops in order to buy bigger things like refrigerator, washing machine etc. Three weeks before, a week before moving into our new home, we started our shopping so that we could move in by May 10-th.
It was with a feeling of trepidation, we stepped out on the first day of the end of lockdown 2.0. We first checked online whether there was any shop that was open. Most shops were flagged as “temporarily closed”. After calling my support group here (luckily Bangalore is peppered with cousins and friends and in addition, I have family far away who had lived in Bangalore at some point of time), who told me a few names I could try.
It was thus that we started driving to Girias in Indira Nagar. At Girias, as we parked the car, I was happy that I was shopping for white goods and not for liquor.
We exchanged the light masks, that we wore in the car, for the tight N95 masks that we had carried with us. At the entrance 4 employees awaited us – one offered us a sanitizer, the other three watched us while we bathed our hands in sanitizer. As soon as we entered the shop, where there were luckily only a few customers, a couple of employees in masks approached us. I squirmed as we walked through narrow aisles next to one of them, much closer than the 6 feet. He showed us the bigger devices and we settled for one of each that we wanted.
We found the refrigerator at Rs. 10K more than we had seen in Amazon, and a washing machine that was Rs. 20K more expensive (not the same model but we were stuck with the better one that was the model they had). An indication of how Amazon was able to make inroads into the Indian market. Rs 10K (~120 Euros*) is a big amount in India.
As we waited to pay, we noticed the bee hive near the cash counters. We waited respectfully at a distance, window shopping other items we might need but was not an essential. Finally, we realised that our turn might never come and headed towards the bee hive. After seeking the attention of the sales person who had attended to us, he billed the amount after seating us in front of his manager. I decided to stand – behind me was a pillar at a distance of about half a feet and the whole store lay open behind the pillar. Nevertheless, many people still said “excuse me” and went between me and the pillar. I squirmed even more.
The billing and payment was done – first we tried the fintech card which had some issues on that day, then my two cards from my SBI accounts that partially worked and then my husband’s credit card. Each was touched by 4 people. As all this was going on, there came a commotion at the door. The time was past the one they were allowed to be open – the police might start coming by any minute. As we left the shop, full of masked employees struggling with social distancing, we were again given the sanitizer.
The contrast at the Pharmacy, where were went next, could not be more. A small thread ran across the door of the pharmacy. One had to wait there until called. I wished it had been the same everywhere.
This visit was followed by our next quest to find a cooking range. Cooking ranges are not normal in India. There are two companies that produce cooking range that everyone seem to know in Bangalore. The rental agent had recommended Faber.
After several attempts to reach Faber, we found one not too far from M’s parents home. The employee, there, was not sure whether they would be able to reach the shop or open it. He would call back once he was there – he said. After no response for a day, I called him around noon of the next day. He said that he had reached there just then – “we are not allowed to open our shop – it is in the red area”! So there I was, waiting to move into our next place with no hob to cook on. I started dialing again – I looked into the green zone maps and then google to find the number.
After 3 attempts, I found a place near our earlier rental place here in Bangalore – I am talking about 20 years ago. The lady was extremely helpful. She said that she has just one 90mm one (“too big” – I said), if we needed a smaller one, she would have to check with other open Faber shops. She got back that evening to say that they have a 50mm one and that would mean gaps on both sides in our future kitchen though it was black, my preferred colour. My fear of cockroaches lurking in the gaps took over my mind.
Luckily, the nice lady, who had found our future apartment for us, stepped in to recommend a trusted electronics place. We drove along the very empty MG Road, crossed all the familiar shops, most closed – ah! There was a Bombay Dyeing shop – it looked open. A couple of saree shops looked open. Finally we parked on one of the streets off the MG Road – we had never found parking, so close by to a shop in MG Road or off it, in the recent past. The buildings around were some of the older ones Bangalore’s nostalgia troupe’s love. We walked around one of those searching for the shop that Google Maps said was supposed to be just in front of us. When we walked in, it was indeed one of those older shops – one that reminded me of some of the white goods shops we used to visit in Tier 2 towns during my childhood.
A man stood in front of all the refrigerators and air conditioners. He had his mask. I mentioned who had sent me and asked whether his name was the one of a singer famous for his hip grind. I mentioned what I had come for. He went inside, looked into his desk and came back with two catalogues. He handed me both and asked me to choose. When I explained that I had come for Faber 60 cm one, he started telephoning.
“Faber already told me that have only 50cm one” – I said.
“Don’t worry Ma’am. We can find one for you”.
I waited sceptically but hopefully (this is not compatible with law of attraction). He came back to tell me that they had the same problem – no Faber ones of the size I wanted. So I decided to go for KAFF and got a black one I wanted. We ordered this one too.
There were just two men in the shop. The both stuck to each other – and maintained a distance from me. They preferred online transfer rather than using a card.
So with urgent white goods acquired, I went to shop for smaller items like some pans to cook in (our things from Germany had yet to arrive), buckets, clothes stand for laundry handling and the soaps required for laundry and cleaning. We went to a shop in Koramangala, run by people from Kerala. It was a shop I used to visit a lot when I used to live here and during my visits from Germany – I had not visited it since they had moved to the new building. As we entered, we struggled to keep social distance due to the changes – the shelves were many, the distance between them were small and it seemed like everyone had shortage of whatever we needed to set up the apartment. We quickly picked up everything and left as soon as we could.
During a second visit to get dustbins and other things, we were let into the shop in batches. However, without sufficient duration between incoming people, and with people like us taking time to shop, the shop became crowded. People starting queueing close to each other.
Being first in line, I squirmed as the person behind came closer. His son whispered several times “Papa, social distancing” and as the man was forced to come closer by the man behind, I told the child to raise his voice more. The child and I were more of similar height that his father and he were. The child obliged me, his father said helplessly, there is no place here. As we were being checked out, a squabble broke out at the next counter – “I was first”, “No – I had placed my cart first” – two ladies, tired and impatient lashed out each other, decibels increasing second by second, until they decided to raise their fists at each other. Soon, one of the injured ladies, complained to the manager, and threatened to call the police for the lack discipline in following the rules of social distancing rules within the shop. I swore not to step in this one again unless desperate or until after COVID times, and to avoid shopping for any more of these things until I found a very empty shop.
End of last week, I needed drain filters. I was worried about my drain getting clogged. We drove around and found a shop where there seemed to be only two shoppers besides me and it was big enough. I went in and got some extra (also for my cousin to minimize the family exposure). Two days later, there was the news that migrant workers from Delhi who had been quarantined in the hotel above the shop had escaped and shopped downstairs. The shop was sealed off the day later. It happened the day after I went to the shop. If it had happened the same day, It could have been me next to them.
Last week, the Indian government made it easier by decreeing that Amazon can deliver as well. Now we are happy to look into the Amazon catalogue and get hooks, water purifier, yeast (not available in other sites), mops, kitchen cloths etc. Is life getting safer? I do not know! The delivery men, and delivery boys come – all have their masks on. I received 7 packages from Amazon yesterday – I recognised one of the delivery boys – he had come in the morning and was wearing the same the clothes he wore in the morning – he probably had a full day. We recognize people not their face these days but in other ways. But delivery stories are for another day.
* I had wanted to buy my new personal laptop in Germany so I can get a German keyboard. Unfortunately as we could not go back, I had to buy it here. Today, I could not get the Euro symbol – funnily Indian keyboards have $ sign but no Euro one.
Life of P(ay)i 