November 2, 2015.

Diyas, rangolis, stickers, small plastic squares holed with designs of gods and goddesses...retailed by women, men and children.... have taken their places on Borivili Station Road a week ahead of Deepavali; on Sunday the road was not, retailers having taken over...Rama was searching for a plastic square with her favourite Ganesh...the poor lady filled the square with white rangoli, tapped it on the road and there came Lord Ganesh without mouse....Rs.10 per piece...Rama picked up two of them even as two customers nudged her...bahinji jara... to test check diyas, perhaps made in Kumbharwada in Dharavi; then for six colours of rangoli, Rs10 per glass, for Rs.50, discount Rs.10 ...Rama felt the rangoli in her fingers, chichieed the quality but went for the deal. Then there was an uprising, the road empty; an advance notice of a municipal raid ... the covered lorry moved in ...why the lorry on a Sunday when haftas are posted to municipality and police without default; the cuts to local goons of political parties; doing business has not become easy...lorry goes away... hawking is back. As Sunday turns Monday and onward, more retailers and customers...a step backward or forward took a minute on Sunday...no business paper and news channel have looked at these folk, their debt-equity ratios, gross and net profits and the many other arithmetics me is not sure of; banks dont fund street retails; will Bandhan do it ?; every Deepavali they shoot up to disappear for the next Deepavali; they dont yell their sells; products laid out for free sampling; from rangoli to STM Tea & Coffee for peaberry filter coffee; the shop never shuts; open the year and business papers say labour laws in India restrict business; the 60 plus Dada, living in Gorai, nods at us pouring roasted peaberry seeds into an electric mixer; the powder tumbles out hot and fragrant; Rs. 480 per kg. Rama and me do it every month, a rite done in fervour. Turning into L.T. Road, we walk into a cloth stretch with towels and bedsheets, pants and shirts, colouring a non existent road and pavement. At organised shops, a pair of towels costs Rs.200; on L.T. Road it is Rs.100; Rama had done a recce and picked up a bright coloured pair for Rs.100; having saved Rs.100, me in smiles strode into Madhuram for samosas (Rs. 16 a piece), Calcutta kala jams (Rs. 30 a piece) and dhoklas. At home, placed the towels in cold water to get rid of street dust; went into the eats; in the bathroom the towels lost colour, turned body kerchiefs. Chewing a kala jam wondered over Doing and Dealing with business.