Page 26 - Seniorstoday April 2023 Issue
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distributed to the whole class. Kwality name - purveyor of “imported” goods. In
was synonymous with ice cream and the his crisp white pyjama and a white shirt he
ice cream man in his blue uniform and cap would arrive at my nani’s house, carrying
would pass by, wheeling his blue and white an Aladdin’s cave in his numerous boxes.
cart ringing his bell. Like the Pied Piper he Out came colourful ribbons, delicate lacy
drew the children to him who crowded his handkerchiefs, brightly coloured hair
cart clamouring for their share of goodies. pins – one style called ‘Love in Tokyo’ for
He would also be at school where, for a reasons I have never been able to fathom.
princely sum of 60paise you could buy Good natured bargaining and haggling
the most expensive ice cream - the choc- went on and at end of it, both went away
bar! We, with our measly pocket money of happy- we with our little packets of
1rupee twice in a month could rarely afford baubles and buttons and Mr. Phitawalla
such delicacies. No ice cream since, has with all that he had sold.
tasted so heavenly as the humble choc-bar. An old bent and really shrivelled
Of course, there was Kwality’s poor cousin gentleman used to come home once a
Magnolia, the cart painted in lurid orange. month lugging a huge parcel tied in
But all of us, friends and cousins alike, cloth and carrying a battered suitcase.
turned up our noses at it. Nothing ever Out tumbled books in Hindi. He was the
came close to Kwality. famous Kitabwalla who went to homes to
sell books to ladies who loved reading, I
remember my Mum and my aunt, Bari Ma
spending many animated hours discussing
books, the must reads, what everyone else
was reading and the merits of little known
gems. The conversation would end with a
large pile of books bought, which Mum and
Bari Ma would divide in half, read their
pile and exchange them with each other.
For days after the kitabwalla came the two
Sometime in the same period, we heard the could be found hiding from the rest of a
twang of a very heavy string in the street. large, unwieldy family, sipping cups of tea
It was the dhunia- the cotton beater - who reading and discussing the new books.
usually appeared when the rains slowly
melted into a slight chill in the evenings.
Quilts were taken out for winter. Under
the eagle eye of mums and aunts, the cotton
was beaten, re-fluffed and stuffed back
in the quilts. Presiding over the whole
exercise was the all-important Kallu darzi,
who with his noisy, whirring sewing
machine sewed back the newly filled quilts. When the Akashvani jingle, based on
Then there was this strange gentleman raag Shivranjani, played you knew
called the Phitawalla- we never learned his dawn had broken. More than a source of
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