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Time to play a tour guide!
Welcome to Hillcroft, Houston’s very own
Little India.
You want to pick up some hot samosas and
vadais for snacking this evening? Avarakai, murungakai,
pudalangai all neatly cut and packed and frozen? Eyebrow
threading? Blouse, salwar stitching? Meeta paan? Sarees, 22
carat jewellery, fashion jewellery… Hillcroft irruka bayam yen?
So what is this Hillcroft, you might wonder.
Well, it is not another big Spencer’s Plaza or another Reliance
Fresh. But it is Houston’s very own street filled with desi
stores. It is like the Ranganathan Street of Houston. No it is
not that narrow or that crowded. Traffic and widthwise I’ll
compare Hillcroft roads to Adyar roads. Just to give you an
idea…
Hillcroft is the desi hangout in Houston, for
anything from Idayam nal ennai to Idayam clogging ghee filled
sweets we head there. It is the place you go to get your monthly
fix of Indian payaru and parupu items and stop for a hot cup of
chaya (no not the Starbucks variety!) It is where you can see
and buy Thumbs-up and Frootis, Amrutanjan pain balms and Hajmola
candies.
Most Indians in Houston make the almost
religious trek to Hillcroft at least once a month. But me, I try
to run-away from Hillcroft! As far as I can get… don’t get me
wrong, I love shopping. I am the kind of person who loves
looking at what each store has to offer. Be it groceries,
cosmetics or clothes, there is something so relieving about
shopping. It is de-stressing and therapeutical. Be it in Chennai
or Houston or anywhere else in the world, give me some stores
I’ll be happy. No that doesn’t mean I am another Becky Brandon
nee Bloomwood kind of shopper. I am the sort of person who just
loves looking at things. I do buy stuff but am more content just
window shopping. But a trip to Hillcroft is a scary prospect. I
put it off, I cook up hundred and one reasons and find desi
groceries at other places and go on!
You ask me why and I try and think. I am a
level-headed, normal, Tamil ponnu. Why should I be scared of
Hillcroft and that is the answer I have been trying to find
myself. I did make a quick run to Hillcroft a few days ago and
just jotted down a quick letter to some of the Unclejis and
Auntyjis there; here they are:
Uncleji,
I come to the checkout counter all tired and ready to keep
moving homeward. I just want you to bill my items and all I can
spare at that instance is a smile and a quick thank you. I am
not, I repeat, I am NOT, ready to hear you scream at your
Mexican workers. They might be slacking off their job but please
refrain from screaming at them into my ears. I have a sensitive
ear and I cannot take in the language and the tirade that
follows.
Auntyji,
If you see me at your fancy store in Houston, it just means one
thing: that I am really desperate. I am the one you would see
walking up and down Pondy Bazaar ten times to find the exact
matching jewellery. I am the sort of person who knows exactly
what I want and if I am at your over-crowded, dusty room called
store, it is because I need something to wear for the party
coming up and I am desperate. It means I have called all
possible friends and relatives to see if there is anyone making
the pilgrimage from Chennai to Houston who might carry a piece
of jewellery for me. And when I am at your store, it is great
that you offer to help me. But I’ll politely decline your help
but please don’t start giving me a big lecture on how to select
jewellery and how I am supposed to bring my dress to match up.
Please, I like to browse and when I see the right piece, the
bells will ring. And if I am desperate for help, believe me,
I’ll ask. Don’t expect me to be the daughter you never had to
advise what I should wear and how I should deck up. And hover
over me unnecessarily. I do not plan to run away with the Rs 50
fancy jewellery you sell for $ 50. And no please don’t peep out
to see who my escort is. It could be anyone and no, I don’t like
your asking personal questions. Yes! I don’t lie. I still have
respect for elders and will reply it is my husband at the door.
Why can’t you stop at that? Why do you need to look up and down
at me, check my neck for my thali and my feet for metti? And I
know you think I am the modern Indian girl without respect for
traditions and elders. Please stop making judgments about me
without knowing me. How can you draw such conclusions about me
in the five minutes I have been in your store?
Uncleji,
I know the highly respectable person behind me in the line is
somehow related to you and you are meeting him after a long
time. But that doesn’t mean you should carry on a conversation
with him while I wait to get my purchases checked out. Please I
can put a smile and wait for a couple of seconds but it is
really irritating to wait, patiently shifting the heavy basket
as you enquire about all your long-lost friends and relatives
and how old the dog is and if it is house-broken and stuff. It
is really a patience-tester and yes this isn’t they way you
treat a customer.
And after reading all these letters to the
store-owners do you still wonder why I rarely go to Hillcroft?
- V
http://poohsden.blogspot.com/
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