Sher Shah Suri is one of the more fondly remembered emperors who had ruled India for a very short period of time. He did not build any spectacular mosque or tower nor did he construct any time- defying architectural wonder. He had built a road to control and manage the myriad problems faced by this diverse, multicultural, multilingual country. He had created a simple master plan, a road map in the literal sense of the term. Build a road and everything will fall in place was probably the management strategy he had hit upon. As the malls and shopping arcades are changing the face of the cities and metros jamming the thoroughfares for miles and for hours let’s understand what multiple commercial roles Indian roads play in ,some form or other, in every big city and metros of our country.
For us roads are more than the means of connectivity. The most shining examples of this are the weekly markets organized at different parts of the metro. Streets are our biggest employers. All footpaths are factory yards, roads are market places. And masterminding and managing these factory yards and markets are no business experts or entrepreneurs but ordinary people who are resilient and street smart .They have their unwritten laws honoured and respected across the board. If there is a problem it is the law enforcing authorities themselves. “Bulldozers are part of our floating existence…we are conditioned by the ad hoc ism of our life”. “The Corporation …they take money from us –Rs 5 everyday …..In some bazaars hafta is fixed for police as well …5-10 Rs, they don’t trouble you if you give them hafta …..in some areas even though space is sanctioned by Corporation, still police comes for money”… Small trader in Budh bazaar.
When corporate collapse people wail, lockouts, retrenchment, privatization, hit headlines but the small and commons take them in their strides and rebuild on jugad. During the day time it is a bustling street and no body can guess that within a few hours it will be literally hijacked by a shopping complex. Preparations are on step by step, imperceptibly. Stacks of folding tables start appearing at the non invasive corners. As the day progresses the entire market emerges almost out of thin air. The generator has arrived; the police have been taken care of. To day take charge of traffic in your own hands and survive. Buses, autos, bikes, bibijies ,bachhas and bahenjies vie with one another to make the most atrocious move, dodging and dribbling, crisscrossing their ways in this maze of a road supremely confident of one another’s ability to avoid any clash.
By the evening rows of collapsible shops complete with colorful display and electric light are fully prepared to take on teeming consumers pouring in from all parts of the city. The seamlessness of the operation indicates the professional expertise of the marketing guild. Who takes care of the requisite permissions , who manages the police , how the space is distributed and allotted , who arbitrate disputes, how merchandise are packed , unpacked and transported without any transit damage , how the garbage and left over are taken care of ? The questions are too many to hazard a proper answer.
In this magic market the toughest retailing activity takes place. Consumers from lower, middle, upper –all strata of the society hit the market place with the common agenda of hardcore bargain.
“ yahan roz ka struggle hai …. there is so much of competition, people go away even if someone is selling at 1 Rs less, price difference matters……..” a plastic bucket seller.
These markets are conversations; conversations of concession; the dialogues that are carried in between munching of mumphalis, sips of hot tea in plastic cups, marketed by mobile chaiwalas. There are arguments that get abruptly snapped by the arrival of a cud -chewing bull demanding it right of passage between the buyer and the seller, deal that gets dragged twenty yards away from the stall of origin and is struck with earnest arguments, frantic pleading and gentle pull at the pallus of departing didis and bahenjis. Conversations which are shocking in their exchanges and counter exchanges, frank, engaging in their practice of persuasion and primitive in their agenda to win.
On the street everybody is adult, every body is ajad, your rules are as good as mine –adjust, accommodate, win and enjoy. Sher Shah was right! Give them a street they will create their own road map.
For us roads are more than the means of connectivity. The most shining examples of this are the weekly markets organized at different parts of the metro. Streets are our biggest employers. All footpaths are factory yards, roads are market places. And masterminding and managing these factory yards and markets are no business experts or entrepreneurs but ordinary people who are resilient and street smart .They have their unwritten laws honoured and respected across the board. If there is a problem it is the law enforcing authorities themselves. “Bulldozers are part of our floating existence…we are conditioned by the ad hoc ism of our life”. “The Corporation …they take money from us –Rs 5 everyday …..In some bazaars hafta is fixed for police as well …5-10 Rs, they don’t trouble you if you give them hafta …..in some areas even though space is sanctioned by Corporation, still police comes for money”… Small trader in Budh bazaar.
When corporate collapse people wail, lockouts, retrenchment, privatization, hit headlines but the small and commons take them in their strides and rebuild on jugad. During the day time it is a bustling street and no body can guess that within a few hours it will be literally hijacked by a shopping complex. Preparations are on step by step, imperceptibly. Stacks of folding tables start appearing at the non invasive corners. As the day progresses the entire market emerges almost out of thin air. The generator has arrived; the police have been taken care of. To day take charge of traffic in your own hands and survive. Buses, autos, bikes, bibijies ,bachhas and bahenjies vie with one another to make the most atrocious move, dodging and dribbling, crisscrossing their ways in this maze of a road supremely confident of one another’s ability to avoid any clash.
By the evening rows of collapsible shops complete with colorful display and electric light are fully prepared to take on teeming consumers pouring in from all parts of the city. The seamlessness of the operation indicates the professional expertise of the marketing guild. Who takes care of the requisite permissions , who manages the police , how the space is distributed and allotted , who arbitrate disputes, how merchandise are packed , unpacked and transported without any transit damage , how the garbage and left over are taken care of ? The questions are too many to hazard a proper answer.
In this magic market the toughest retailing activity takes place. Consumers from lower, middle, upper –all strata of the society hit the market place with the common agenda of hardcore bargain.
“ yahan roz ka struggle hai …. there is so much of competition, people go away even if someone is selling at 1 Rs less, price difference matters……..” a plastic bucket seller.
These markets are conversations; conversations of concession; the dialogues that are carried in between munching of mumphalis, sips of hot tea in plastic cups, marketed by mobile chaiwalas. There are arguments that get abruptly snapped by the arrival of a cud -chewing bull demanding it right of passage between the buyer and the seller, deal that gets dragged twenty yards away from the stall of origin and is struck with earnest arguments, frantic pleading and gentle pull at the pallus of departing didis and bahenjis. Conversations which are shocking in their exchanges and counter exchanges, frank, engaging in their practice of persuasion and primitive in their agenda to win.
On the street everybody is adult, every body is ajad, your rules are as good as mine –adjust, accommodate, win and enjoy. Sher Shah was right! Give them a street they will create their own road map.
1 comment:
awesome!! so much starts from a road. the santhali word for 'justice' or 'jurisprudence' is kulhi durup, which literally means sitting on the road.
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