For the last two years, over two seasons, Mir Baksh, I think his name is, has been coming and knocking at Ibaadat's Gate.
He calls me Didi - elder sister - in that unmistakable Kashmiri 'lehzaa' (accent).
The first time he dropped in, he told me his brother had sold to me a few years back on a couple of occasions. He could be right.
Both times I have been buying the Pashminas from him - some out of need, many just out of greed. Some to earn him a "Boni" - the first earning of the day or to help him make just that little more cash before he returns to his 'mulk.'
Many times he offers me good discounts, other times I am not sure how much he has swindled me.
But each time he has gone back with a smile and left one on my face, like that of a Cheshire cat that just licked a bowlful of cream.
I hope his lot begins to thrive again. I wish his land and his people peace!
Picture courtesy - Google Images
No comments:
Post a Comment