Yesterday I posted a picture of the "GLOBAL PAAN HOUSE", a tiny store located near the entrance of Atlanta's Global Mall, located at Jimmy Carter Boulevard, touting that "Paan" or betel has gone global in Atlanta's "Global Mall". I have a nice anecdote relating this particular store and its owner from last summer.
On a hot evening last August, after dropping off our son for the first time at the University of Georgia in Athens, my wife and I decided to stop by at the Global Mall in North of Atlanta. Feeling forlorn and a sad rush of gloom as fresh, nascent empty nesters, we were not in a mood to eat anything at the mall. Hence we ordered a quick carry out of Indian-Chinese food before heading home. In the mean time, to kill our waiting time, we decided to sip hot "Masala" (spicy) tea to sooth our jaded nerves fatigued from a long drive, fighting despondency.
I was concentrating on dealing with an inconsolable Tanujaa, just separated from "Apple of her eyes", trying to get into terms of living away from her only child for a long time after all those long, 18 years filled with memories. All of sudden, a gray haired middle aged man approached our table, smiling at us. From my prior experience, I always felt unsolicited contact from any unknown individual, especially from our Desis in America (a slang used Persons of Indian origin in US), a bit intimidating. It was probably due to my prior experience of being approached during my initial days in the United States in the 1990s when "Amway" agents harangued me, so much so that I thought of putting a board in front of my apartment displaying "Dogs and Amyay folks aren't allowed". (I love dogs. Just saying to drive my point, alluding to during Hitler's Nazi heydays at the infamous Berlin Olympics in 1936 there were sick graffitis written all over the Olympics village, proclaiming Jews and Dogs aren't allowed).
I prepared myself to politely rebuff this man as I was hardly in mood to listen to any sales pitch. But something about the man made me calm and patiently listen to him. It was already late on a lazy day of summer Sunday evening. The crowd inside the Mall was very sparse. The man bended near our table, putting both his hands on top of an empty chair lying nearby - "VYAPAAR (Business) is very slow today. I am sittle idle for a long time. Do you understand Hindi".
Not very keen on having a long conversation, was about to rebuff him, telling him upfront if he could cut the crap and straightaway get to the point. But I stopped short and responded politely - "HAAN, (yes). I know Hindi". The man continued - "AAJ DUKAAN MEIN AKELE MACHHAR MAAR RAHA HU (Today I am sitting alone in my shop, killing mosquitos"). Though there was no mosquito to be seen around, figuratively it means he was having a lousy day in business with nothing to do. I queried - "Which shop is yours" ? The man stayed bended, pointing to the "GLOBAL PAAN HOUSE" he said - "If you can buy couple of Paans (sweetened betels), I will feel obliged. I will make a fantastic Paan for you and ma'am".
I looked at my wife to gauge her mood. Without battling an eyelid she nodded and signslled to order couple of Paans. I instantly acquiesced. The man's mood lifted, so also ours as his genuinely exalted, expressive feelings from his looks looked contagious. He sad down on his stool inside his small kiosks, focusing on adding a layer of thin paste, taking turns on both Paans, followed by sprinkling several sweet, flavored multi-colored ranbow "Masalas" over them. Looking at the board on top of his store displaying "Global Paan House", all of sudden I blurted out a twisted version of Kishore Kumar's song from the Hindi movie "DON" popularized by indomitable Amitabh -
"O KHAIKE PAAN GLOBAL MALL WALA, KHUL JAYE BAND AKAL KA TAALAA".
it unlocks your closed mind).
The man now lifted his head as he folded the Paan into a triangle, which was now looking alike the midsized head of a green rattlesnake sans its venomous teeth. He smiled back at us, his white stubble from his unsaved cheek glistening under the bright light - "I was a huge fan of Amit jee (Amitabh Bachchan)". "And who wasn't" - was my response, Amitabh was the one man Bollywood industry those days". "Do you remember any stanza from this song you just sang" - the man asked while giving finishing touches to the Paans. I sang back, as I was glad to see my wife standing back smiling. I could sense now she was far better off than her depressing, melancholy mood moments ago. It lifted my spirits up to oblige the man to sing another stanza of the song based on his "FARMAIS" (Request) -
TERE SURAT PE MARGAYE HAI, HAI, HAI.."
(One nubile girl,
Made me die from her looks).
Then I told him - "Do you know that Kishore Kumar recorded this hit song while chewing a paan. The incredible natural singer he was".
"ARRE, AAP TO MERA MAN BEHLA DIYA (You made my mood today) - the man erupted with signs of unbundled joy. He eulogized me further - "You have a good voice and good memory". I was not sure of both, unsure of the genuineness of his accolades, thinking he was needlessly flattering. Fake or otherwise, though at best a bathroom singer, the KUJI (minor) artist in me took his words as compliments. I felt humbled as well, for my miscued extrapolation about a simple, jolly, likable person, yet vindicated Mark Twains famous quote - "Most generalizations are usually wrong". But more than anything else I could see my wife's mood now lifted as sunshine breaks the darkness, same as this stanza from another Kishore Kumar's song -
YOON NAZAR KE SAMNE,
JAISE NIKAL AYEE
GHATA SE CHAAND"...
Transliterated...
In front of my eyes;
Bolstering the mood
as if moon ventured out of cloud".
I passed the Paan to my wife, picked up our carry out plastic bag and bid adieu to our betel shop man as I could hear loudspeakers inside the Mall yelling at us - "Attention Shopkeepers. We will be closing in 15 minutes".
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