A shop: any shop, your corner store, with everything you need for a regular day, sachets of shampoo, bundles of bread loaves, trays of milk packets and jars of candies. Candies, of various colours, in see through glass or plastic jars, all lined up on the front of the counter, with dull metal screw on tops, and a dingy interior with metal boxes, or drums of rice, and dal, and sugar. Shelves of soap, and a few tattered posters put up by company marketing people, and ignored by everyone else, once they’re up. You go in there, every one or two days, and pick up something, perhaps some butter, or maybe a cold drink, and some chips, a pack of cigarettes maybe?
The colony: a regular colony, the one you live in, with nothing special about it. Peaceful, quiet, small houses, big houses, cars, from Marutis to the skoda, and bikes, with young men on them, and young men looking wistfully at them. And of course, some girls, none of them attractive enough to catch your eye, or perhaps a couple that you watch as they walk down the road, and wonder about. Some old aunties and uncles, that tsk at you as you walk by, dressed in your ‘new’ clothes, chewing gum, and talking on your phone. And of course kids, small loud, bouncy kids. Kids coming home from school, going to school, cycling around, and around a park, playing cricket in a park, getting in everyone’s way when they lose their ball. Kids obsessed with Tv, kids who talk loudly, but also, kids who love candy.
One day, you notice one kid, a girl probably. She is cute, and she is bubbly, and very excited. Her dad drives one of the better cars, but not the best, perhaps say a swift? Or even a santro, that seems to fit better, doesn’t it?
He comes out religiously every evening for a walk, and brings his daughter with him too. Let’s say her name is Natasha, and he calls her Sasha, after some idiosyncrasy of his. Of course, the idea of an evening walk, isn’t her idea of fun, but she comes along, unaware at present that she can disagree with her father. His evening walk coincides with when you return from work everyday. And he’ll usually step into the shop, a few minutes after you, while you’re enjoying a cold drink, a dew, or say a pepsi, or whatever takes your fancy on a given evening. You’ll be standing just outside, munching on some chips, and you’ll watch this pair come walking up the street. The girl, will be flitting all over the side walk, and talking a mile a minute, the father will be much more sedate, almost to compensate for his daughter's hyperactivity, and reply as best he can, to her millions of questions. Occasionally he’ll ask her about school, or about homework, or whatever it is that father ask kids that age.
And he’ll step into the store to buy something, a paper, a packet of milk, a loaf of bread, or whatever they need at home, that evening. This has become a routine for you, you watch them, as they come into the shop, almost everyday, and in that typically vouyeuristic way we have, you’ll start to take an interest in what they do in the store, and probably even come up with a scenario of what they are like at home.
One day you’ll notice, this girl, exceptionally curious, starts looking at all the jars with candy. This is something new. She’ll run her hand down the long row of glass jars, and even beat some kind of random rhythm on the tops of a few. This will attract the attention of her father, who’ll look at her with mild admonition, and she’ll stop. Understanding she was doing something wrong, but not realizing why, or what even.
He’ll turn his attention back to the shopkeeper, who is still talking to a customer who’s been trying to buy a particular brand of something, which the shopkeeper doesn’t carry, and they’re trying to find a suitable substitute. The man is patient, the daughter isn’t. She goes back to looking at the jars. And one catches her fancy.
It’s a jar with small chocolate bar shaped candy, wrapped in fluorescent glossy paper. She stands next to it. The shopkeeper notices, but says nothing. And she starts toying with the lid, finally unscrewing it. The father isn't exactly watching. Finally when she opens the jar, the shopkeeper steps in, and says, “Here leave that alone,” and looks at the father, with a semi-reproachful look, tinged with a request for help.
The father is slightly embarrassed, and slightly bugged at the shopkeeper for presupposing to check his daughter. He looks at her, and sees what she has done. He says, “You want one?” She nods ascent. He reaches into the jar, very pointedly, showing that he can. And fishes out one, passes it to her, “Okay? Or you want some other flavour?” She seems content. “add that to my total please,” he says politely enough to the shopkeeper, having made his point that his daughter had his permission to touch things in the store.
The next evening, the daughter, goes almost straight to the jar, and the father notices. He doesn’t want to make a habit of buying her candy, so he tells her to come back to his side, and absentmindedly takes hold of her arm, in order to restrain her. She isn’t very pleased, but stands there, while he conducts his business. Her eyes are still glued to the jar though. The father doesn’t notice. You finish your drink early today, and pay and leave. But you notice that she is still staring at that jar, and occasionally glancing at her father.
The next day, they’re late, you deliberately linger, and you buy an extra packet of chips, or another cold drink, waiting. They arrive, the girl seems pretty happy. She look at the jar as soon as they enter, but apparently she’s been told something at home, because she doesn’t make a move towards the jar, but stands next to her father, holding his hand with both hands. She tries to say something to him a couple of times, but he’s too busy to notice. A look of disappointment clouds her face, and ultimately, she becomes sullen. When they leave, you see her look over her shoulder at the jar, a look of injustice in her eyes.
You wonder, perhaps she’d been promised a candy if she’d behaved well. But who can say, why she was behaving so well today. However, it’s obvious she’d been cheated. You think back to the number of promises that were made to you and broken as a child, that new red cycle you wanted, and instead you got one painted black, which really wasn’t the same thing. Or perhaps that guitar, or that casio synthesizer, or the cool swimming trunks, or whatever chip you still carry on your shoulder, and you think of this girl grudging that one bar of candy for a very long time. And you smile, that’s what growing up is about, knowing which promises will be broken, you reflect, pay up and leave. Almost wanting to buy her the candy, but she’s left, making your ‘good deed for the day’ nothing more than a thought.
The next day:
The come in. The daughter’s leash has evaporated. The father looks confident, he is back to his usual self, engrossed in the shop itself, perhaps looking for something he wants to buy. The daughter goes upto the jars, and starts looking into all of them, deliberately focusing on none. The father checks up on her a few times. But seems assured she’ll be okay.
The girl after a few minutes, starts to unscrew the top of the jar. The father doesn’t notice, nor does the shopkeeper. Ultimately, she puts her hand in, and brings out a bar, and is returns to her father side, holding her trophy in clear view. The father notices it, now what does one do? Should he deny his daughter a candy bar? Such a measely bar, that would seem too mean? But she had taken it, without permission, still, to take it out of her hand, and put it back, could have consequences. She seemed happy right now, triumphant almost. If he took it away, she might cry, or the shopkeeper might say something. You can see him think about all this, as he keeps his stare on his daughter. And she, with her free hand grasps his hand.
The father makes up his mind. The daughter seems so confident, if he took the candy back, things would look bad. So he doesn’t say anything, and let’s her keep it. Quietly he indicates to the shopkeeper to add the candy to his total, pays, and leaves, with the daughter behind him, now unwrapping the candy and preparing to relish it.
The father, however, is obviously confused.
The next day, they’re at the store before you get there. Those damn HR presentations, you’ve been delayed by a few minutes of hand shaking, and smiling after work. The girl, is once more behaving impeccably, holding her father’s hand, and the devouring she’s doing, is with her eyes. He buys his stuff, and she tugs on his arm, just before he pays the shopkeeper. He bends down, and she whispers something in his ear. Her eyes flashing with anticipation her smile wide, she literally jumps, to be able to tell him sooner.
You can’t hear what she saying, but she frees one hand from his, and points at the jar. The father, sagely, perhaps thinking of yesterday, shakes his head, makes his payment, and leaves. Once more she is disappointed, and she is still looking at the jar, when they leave. You’re getting late for dinner, so you too leave, soon after, with just a loaf of bread under you arm, instead of the usual leisurely drink.
A few days later, you’re back to your old routine, though you’re having a thumbs up, because, it’s harder when they walk in. When the father isn’t looking, the girl goes to the jar, and takes out a candy, and quickly returns to his side. He pays again, without acknowledging what she did. And then for a few days, she’s on her best behavior again. Then again, she’ll take out a candy and make her father pay for it. She now longer asks him to buy her one, but whenever she judges the stars are correctly aligned, she picks one up. And now her tastes have expanded, it could be a candy from any of those attractive jars on the counter, depending on which catches her fancy, proximity, and her father’s level of attentiveness.
She’s learnt, one important lesson: It’s better to ask for forgiveness, than permission. Kids these days, really are smarter than we were!
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