Their Business Reflects Prayers

Aanp Chahiye, aanp?
Aanp Chahiye!
Hey, aanp?

It varies the tones they make, it varies the intentions they give; of late in Kathmandu, these request notes nonetheless fill every street. Listening often, one might find them not pleasing. But, for many others, the notes sound lofty, for the service is at their doors, and they need to pay a far smaller price for those fresh mangoes than they would otherwise spend for some artificial-tasting momos, noodles, tea & bread, or biscuits. No house rent included, no VAT added, the peddler brothers look very cheerful transacted.

Really, if we comprehend with an interest, their notes carry in deep other meanings where we everybody fall equal. " Aanp Chahiye, aanp?" makes "Would you like mangoes?" in direct sense. While, we may also here it like we are essential for them to survive, and vice versa. "Your presence makes our life easy- Aa(n)p chahiye, aa(n)p!" Obviously, from the rising sun to the falling of it, some of our Terai and cross-border brothers peddle to us their lives. As we live on them, they live for us with a very small profit from seasonal fruits and nuts - they struggle against heat and rain.

For the Kathmanduites who can only dream of working with paddy seedling and mud in the summer, these mango notes may replace 'summer season' with a nomenclature 'mango season'. Been living in Kathmandu for study, one day, I was also nostalgic of the summer works when I managed a short chat with a peddler who sold mangoes to me. "Where do you come from, Bhaiya?" 'Bhaiya' from our tongues make them feel close to us. At this level, I recall 'Cabuliwallah' by Rabindranath Tagore.
"From Sarlahi."
"Don't you feel your need in the family? It's the paddy planting season there."
"No, we're many brothers. I also make some money from here for my family. It's compulsion that drives."

His story shows us of unseen and partial unemployees, and some other social and political situations in the suburbs. Anyway, we should understand that they have to find satisfactions from such meagre incomes in curries, fruits, and nuts on their cycles. So, wise of us reflect ourselves on them. For me, you can easily guess what their 'Maldav', a shout of a sweet mango variety, sounds. With the sun in the sky, I listen them say, 'Mahadev!' 'Mahadev!'.

[July-1, 2005 ]