Child marriages

On Saturday I went to Shopper's Stop, an indoor mall with metal detectors and security, A/C and shiny floors. An exact replica of an American department store but for the extra attentive attendants and salvars instead of prom dresses on the mannequins. Don't get me wrong, you can actually find a mini version of Forever 21 turning around the corner, with comparable Indian brands advertised above each section. Bypassing the mini skirts and halters, I sifted through the racks of mass produced brand name salvars, I instinctively seeked to find the salvar clearance section. Unfortunately, that part of American shopping hasn't quite reached the department store just yet. It was odd to see bulk salvars rather than the one unique piece standard "free size 40" which I am used to seeing in most of the stores you go to here, upscale boutiques and showrooms included. All of a sudden, the lady walking down the street could have the same exact salvar you're wearing in a different size. I tried hard to refrain from humming the tune being played overhead, 98 degrees - Invisible Man, a song I hadn't heard since high school, in my continuous efforts to appear "local" and avoid being fleeced. I decided to give in however, when I realized, this was not a place you bargained your prices down or walked out on merchants unwilling to negotiate, only to wait for them to chase you back to make the sale. It was truly American style, the price tag was the final price. Quality was good, brands were well known, and they knew it. Service was present, but there was no personal investment behind the friendly smiles. I breezed through the departments and walked out empty handed. Converting prices, I quickly realized that once again, my price expectations were far too low. Bangalore was big now, and it was booming, as were prices. With a plummeting exchange rate, it becomes even harder for me to shell out the cash for something I expect to pay far less for. I'm in India! Things are supposed to be cheap!!
It was too early to go home so I flagged down an auto and asked them to take me to Maya Deep, a recommended store I had written in my notebook. The driver gave me a headshake (note: different than a head bob) denoting that he had no clue what I was talking about. Happy enough that I found a hindi speaking driver and figuring i would just find it after getting in the vicinity, I asked him to take me to a shopping spot in 4th Block. After my blatent exploitation during the auto ride of the day before, I determinedly insisted on using the meter to prevent being ripped of once again. Despite trying to outsmart the driver, after what felt like going in circles and 30 Rs later, he dropped me of to an indoor/outdoor swap meet of sorts. In contrast to yesterday's shopping adventure, I saw vendors selling everything from vegetables to puja supplies, fish for dinner to rugs. I bought a few small miscellaneous things and even haggled some, though I'm sure I probably still overpaid. Failing to locate the elusive Maya Deep, I decided to walk around to see if I could find it myself. I walked blocks going in and out of stores, passing by delicious fruit carts, determined to avoid them like the plague, though the fresh cut pineapple was close to impossible to refuse. I found myself at the infamous Priya Fashions where Mami and I end up going daily for altering something or the other. I went and checked on my work orders which, I wasn't too surprised to find, was going to be ready after 6pm. I decided to call it quits and take an auto home since I had an idea of where I was now and my stomach was getting the better of me. I was refused once for some unknown reason and was finally taken in by the second auto that I hailed down. Aside: I'd like to see how hailing a cab in NYC compares to getting an auto--there is no stepping off the curb since there is hardly a curb, and you basically throw yourself into the street with the hopes that it's vacant.
I came home and sat down to some fantastic lunch as usual - R(Khadi)BS and fought the food coma and nap in the hopes of getting a continuous night of sleep tonight. After many ins and outs of jewelers and book keepers for my aunt, Chandrappa took us to Priya's Fashions to pick up our alterations. Once more, I was denied and told to come back tomorrow for my order though Mami's was ready. We were tempted back into the store and started looking at "One Stitch" material that was "wash and wear" no ironing required. I bought one and took it next door to get it made. Dazzled by the plethora of necklines and backs available to be made, I decided to keep it simple and maybe work up to the fancier styles later. I was ecstatic to find some bandini material for chania choris in the store adjacent while I was waiting for my measurements and decided to come back to get blouses made for those as they were at a price close to what I was paying for salvars! We'll see how this tailor does with my chudidar before I give him a blouse to make. I went back to the car and heard what I thought was music. Mami informed me that it was the Muslim "mias" doing their evening prayers as we were near a Mosque - it sounded beautiful and soothing. We continued on to Mami's doctor's office, a small house, converted to a clinic with chairs outside on the porch as well as more inside. I don't quite know why there were people sitting outside where the mosquitos were abundant and there was no fan to keep them cool but we went inside and sat near some magazines. On the walls were posters about feminine health, pregnancy, and numerous posters on diabetes and it's complications. There was a mini shrine on one of the walls which, in stark contrast to America, does not label this a religious clinic. It is completely normal for stores and services to clearly announce their religious affiliation which is far different from the secularism in the United States. We finished up there and headed to the Pharmacy, "Druggist and Chemist" to fill her prescription, a hole in the wall store that was lined with cans of deodorants and other mini mart commodities. There is no filing system or records. The shop simply looks at the script, gives it back to you, and fills it for you, in less than 10 minutes. I am still baffled by the ease of procuring medications here. Since the pharmacy doesn't keep the script and has no record of dispensing it to you, you basically can get anything you want as many times as you want, without a prescription. Sunita ben says drug abuse and fraud haven't made their way here yet--maybe after it does they will have to have tighter control on meds. We made our way home avoiding the heavy traffic by taking side streets and came across some scooterers that were making U-s and popping wheelies. Mami ordered the driver to stay far behind them as they were clearly trouble. We got home and Mami's 16 year old ex-cook came to visit her and bring her a Sari. He recently went home to Rajasthan to get married, leaving his wife there for the traditional year before he can bring her back to his home in Bangalore with him. He had been arranged to marry her from childhood and had apparently said no but ended up marrying her at the end. He spent over a lakh rupees for the week long wedding, and will have to work hard and multiple places to pay for it. He stood at the doorway awkwardly and spoke briefly, as it is not expected that he would be offered a seat. He gave Mami a sari gift before he left, surprised as I thought he would be the one getting gifts for his wedding...that was sweet of him no?