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At the Sabzi Bazaar

My next door neighbour, Mrs. Asha Singh, wants to visit the local market.  She has a matter or two to check at the bank and then she would like to have a look around the local shops.  She asks me if I'm up for an 'outing', as she calls it. Well, who doesn't like to get out for an hour or so?  I check to make sure the old dear (mother-in-law) is in good company - she is, her sister-in-law is over on a short visit of a day or two, and off we go.

So with an air of freedom, Mrs. Asha Singh and I are off, walking, chatting, keeping an eye out on the road and holding our shopping bags nice and close.  We stop off at the bank.  It's always nice to see that your bank book is up to date.  No doubt, it's nice to have ATM machines and all the rest, but Mrs. Asha Singh doesn't have time for such things.  Your bank book is your real wealth as far as she is concerned.  Me?  I use the bank all right, but I try to have as little to do with ATM machines  as possible.  One visit to an ATM machine and I lose track of my bank account forever.

After the bank, the vegetable market (sabzi bazaar) is the next stop.  It is quite a big vegetable market.  I love the atmosphere of the place, which its colourful fruits neatly piled up.  For me it's more luxurious than a chocolate shop.  However, the pomegranates are ridiculously expensive.  I'll wait a few more weeks until they become a bit more accessible.

Mrs. Asha Singh spends quite a bit of time haggling over cucumbers.  There's another little touch of luxury - salad!  Forget cooked vegetables, I could live on fruits and salads, vegetarian or not.  But the morning heat is insidious.  I'm feeling depleted and thirsty.

"Hello, Maria!  How are you today?" says a familiar voice.  I look up and see a familiar face, swathed with long, white veils down to her feet.  Sister Theresa from the local Carmelite Convent School and a fellow parishioner of mine.  How nice.

So Mrs. Asha Singh meets Sister Theresa.  The two of them probably wouldn't have met in a lifetime if it wasn't for me.  Sr. Theresa is from south India and speaks a language called Malayalam.  Mrs. Asha Singh is a Hindi speaking north Indian.   Strange are the ways of life.

Purchases completed, Sr. Theresa offers us a lift home, gladly accepted by me.  Mrs. Asha Singh is also happy.  We had  a nice morning, but it's getting too hot.

I sit in the lovely, luxurious (to me for now at least!) convent jeep, property of the Catholic Church and I think to myself that sometimes it feels so good to be a Catholic!  Especially at times like this.  I mean that in the nicest way possible....

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  1. Again a similarity in words has jumped out at me...Turkish word for vegetable...sebze.

    Sounds like a pleasant day...hope you are feeling much better now xx

  2. I don't like ATM machines either, Maria. I prefer the personal touch of going up to talk to a bank teller.

    Is your hot weather the start of summer, or the end? I'm not sure what the season is in India! I'm sure you were thankful for the unexpected ride home, on such a hot day. :)

  3. Roaming around is always a great thing to do...greatest time pass for me at least....


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