by Oszey Calland.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Oszey is a first year Creative Writing student at the University of Gloucestershire. He has travelled extensively and writes about a wide variety of subjects.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Simple Days of Chai and Plum Cake<\/u><\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mr Ramesh stepped out of the little shop into the intense heat, looking up at the bright blue sky. \u201cFort Cochin is getting hotter every year,<\/em>\u201d he thought. \u201cThe monsoons will come soon bringing cooling rains. The Indian Monsoon always comes first to Kerela. Kerela: God\u2019s blessed land.\u201d<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n Taking his eyes away from the sky he\nlooked to the corner of the street. Mrs Patel from the next shop was sweeping\nthe ground with ferocious swings of her broom. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMrs Patel, you have so much energy in\nthat sweeping, obviously your energy is not being used in serving customers?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat customers? Low season is here again, Ramesh. What should we expect at this time of the year?\u201d Mrs Patel looked around, the street was empty. \u201cNo, Ramesh my brushing is getting rid of my anger and frustration,\u201d she said in a hushed voice, once again looking for any on-comers who might interrupt the conversation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhy, is your anger and frustration creating\nthis mad brushing?.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt’s Sanchi, he… he\u2026\u201d She looked around again. \u201cI caught him on those titty sites again. That bloody phone. I told Mr Patel it was a bad idea.\u201d Mrs Patel\u2019s voice became more intense. \u201cThose bloody phones, nothing but trouble, and that bloody computer is no better, always asking me, \u2018do I want cookies?\u2019. Look at the size of me, Ramesh. Do I look as though I need more cookies?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou have a fine figure, Mrs Patel, just as your mother and my mother had.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh! The old days Ramesh, why can’t it be like back then?\u201d Not taking a breath she ranted on in a hushed voice. \u201cHe said he would stop looking at them, those titties on the phone. If we take him to McDonald\u2019s at the new Lulu shopping mall. Have you been to Lulu mall yet Ramesh? You know, they say you can order what you want before you go and collect it, without seeing it. How can you buy something you have not seen, Ramesh?\u201d Mrs Patel\u2019s eyes were becoming larger, looking as though they were going to pop out of her head. She explained more. \u201cIt is the gateway to the new world, and a very expensive world, Ramesh.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThis is the issue, Mrs Patel.\u201d Raising the palms of his hands to the sky, Mr Ramesh joined in the rant. \u201cThe young ones want everything now. They\u2019re not interested in the quality of what they want, it just has to be the right brand. Having to bargain with them all the time is harder work than the customer.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell that\u2019s when we get the customer,\u201d\nreplied Mrs Patel. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh! Look, Mrs Patel, you have customers\nlooking in your window.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMiracles may happen!\u201d Mrs Patel voiced over her shoulder as she and the broom made their way to her shop. Following the two young people making their way through the doorway. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Feeling the heat and sweat starting to run\ndown his back, Mr Ramesh made his way to the coolness of his own shop. As he\nstepped into the doorway the call of the chai man caught his ears. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCHAI, CHAI!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Spinning around he put his hand out. The\nchai man’s bike came to a halt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCHAI, CHAI!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The waft of cinnamon and spices from the\nhot milk made him feel hungry. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes, please and a piece of your delicious plum cake.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n He and the chai man exchanged conversation\non how hot it was and made a wish that the rain would come soon. His shirt was\nfeeling damp and starting to cling to him. He politely said goodbye to the chai\nman, letting him ride off in search of his next customer. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The coolness of the shop was a blessing.\nHe sat down with his chai and plum cake. The chai and plum cake man had been\naround for as long as he could remember. His thoughts went back to the\nconversation with Mrs Patel. \u201cThe area\nwas changing, a place that had not changed as long back as he could remember.\nBut times were changing, people were <\/em>definitely changing<\/em>.<\/em>\u201d He started\nto think of the new fast style food places that were opening in the area. \u201cBread\nWorld, bloody Bread world what type of place was this.<\/em> Offering\nwestern-style-bread, cakes and pizzas, sausage rolls and burgers. Not healthy\nfood, it’s all done in a microwave. All cooked in two minutes.\u201d <\/em>His mother would turn in her grave if he ate\nthat food. He captured visions of his mother from his memory. Picturing\nher, spending most of her day preparing the ingredients. He could smell the Masala in the memory. The\nsound of clanking frying pans, hot oil spitting and the aroma of spices would\nfill the air. The hours she would spend preparing the curry, marinating meat,\nadding spices through the cooking process. And then the chapatis and naan-bread tossing in the hot oil. What would she think of microwave samosa? She\nwould be spinning like a firecracker. <\/p>\n\n\n\n He looked around his shop at the shelves filled with cashmere shawls and cloths. The beautiful bright colours, pinks, reds, greens. So many shades. He picked up a shawl and put it to his cheek, feeling the softness and smiling. His thoughts rolled on, his smile slowly disappearing. \u201cThis shopping on the internet so easy. Just put it in your basket, press the button and pay. No talking. No exchanging the story of the cashmere. No time, just buy, hurry, hurry, other things to do. People don’t have time for the story any more. The story of how the cashmere got to my little shop. Do they want to know about the journey I took once a year to get the cashmere? 3500 miles to Kashmir, three days on the train.<\/em> I could have just gone to buy it from Deli, but you would not get the good deal and also having to pay the middle man would cut into the profits.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n That journey, the people the food and all\ntypes of animals, goats, chickens and ducks, all packed in with the people. Every colour God created in the saris worn by\nwomen who would create little homes on the train, tending to their family\u2019s needs.\nThe journey would take him from one end of India to the other. From the lush\ngreenness of Kerala to the hot middle of India, to the cool mountains and lakes\nof Kashmir. Oh! What a journey, what wonderful memories. <\/p>\n\n\n\n And the people he would meet on the way. The conversations. Sharing good food, proper food from each region. Biryani from Hyderabad, the light sweet curries of Gujarat, the thick creamy curries of the north. Everyone would sleep huddled together in any space they could find. The friends he would make. His smile faded. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd now the press of the button is taking it all away. On the train now, there is no conversation, just people looking at the phone, what is happening to my beloved country? Maybe soon we will be able to make a baby with the phone, no need for touching, loving, caring. Just press the button and it will arrive a few days later, and no need to come to Fort Cochin for your holidays any more. Get one of those bloody head things and go anywhere in the world while sitting on the toilet.\u201d<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat is this world coming to?\u201d he shouts out loud to the shawl, kissing it. Rolling the shawl around his hands. The cashmere felt soft warm and comforting. \u201c<\/em>Can the computer tell you about the goats this wool came from? Has the computer met the goats?\u201d He kisses the shawl and presses it to his cheek. \u201c<\/em>And the work that goes into these little prayer rugs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He loved to show\nthe customer the detail. They were once his best sellers as they could be\npacked easily into a suitcase. <\/p>\n\n\n\n ***<\/p>\n\n\n\n The two young backpackers filled the door-way. \u201cHi! Can we have a look around?\u201d the young girl bellowed in a high-pitched American voice, the young man following. \u201cHi!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh yes please do, welcome, welcome to my little shop, is there anything in particular you are looking for?\u201d His sale patter kicked in. \u201cI have a special end-of-season offer on these exquisite little rugs. Very easy to take home with you. Are you from America?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes, we’re from California,\u201d the young girl replied. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCalifornia, I have many customers that\ncome from California, they always take a rug home. They fit so easy into the\nbackpack.\u201d Mr Patel was feeling good now. The actor is on stage, his sales\nspiel flowing. The sound of drums and\nair guitar filled the air. The\nyoung girl looked at her phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNicky is in the Coffee Lounge, we should go.\nThank you we have to go and meet a friend.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLet me just show these beautiful cashmere\nshawls I have them in many colours.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI am sorry we really have to go, our\nfriend is waiting.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCan your friend not have a coffee while\nshe\u2019s waiting?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe\u2019re really sorry we really have to go.\u201d\n She pushed the young man to the door. \u201cWe\nwere only browsing any way.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThanks for your time, we will try and come back tomorrow,\u201d the young man replied in an apologetic tone as he was pushed out the doorway. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh yes please do and bring your friend. I\nhave many lovely things for you ladies and young gentlemen.\u201d He stood\nalone in the shop again, holding the little rug. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJust browsing, always browsing. And now they will go and browse the internet to remind them of the little rugs. Order it from Amazon, in the basket: click, click and it’s done.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Sitting down, he looked around at the\nshelves of brightly coloured garments thinking of what the future was coming\nto. <\/p>\n\n\n\n He did not hear the light footsteps enter the shop behind him. He jumped from his state of daydream, feeling the hand move through his hair. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMy beautiful husband you are in dream land again.\u201d He captured the heavy scent of his wife\u2019s perfume. Turning, he looked at her, in her slender high heels and tight fitting western style suit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh, my beautiful wife you are like the first rains of the monsoon.\u201d He softly stroked the arm of her suit. \u201cCashmere?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes darling, from Italy. You like it?\u201d She lightly kissed him on the lips. \u201cAnd how has your day been?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh, normal.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes, normal, just sitting around here\nwaiting for someone to walk through the door.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n He opened his mouth to give a defensive\nreply. The words disappeared in to the fragrant air. She filled the gap with soft compassion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThis shop is so old and dusty. You have everything so crammed on these shelves. How old is this stock? I think it\u2019s been here for so many years it\u2019ll be starting to disintegrate. Have you checked for mice?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He looked at his wife with no words of\ndefence. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe open the new floor on the store\ntomorrow and I am signing the contract with Apple. Why don’t you come and work\nwith me?\u201d Her voice became enthusiastic while looking into his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou are very good at selling. I think your talents are wasted here. I can get the web design department to create you an online shop, it can be your hobby.\u201d He kissed her on the cheek. <\/p>\n\n\n\n He kissed her on the cheek. \u201cMy beautiful darling wife I think you are right.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"template":"","categories":[398],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5348","project","type-project","status-publish","hentry","category-student-stories"],"acf":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/uniofglos.blog\/creativewriting\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project\/5348","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/uniofglos.blog\/creativewriting\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/project"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/uniofglos.blog\/creativewriting\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/project"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/uniofglos.blog\/creativewriting\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5348"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/uniofglos.blog\/creativewriting\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5348"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/uniofglos.blog\/creativewriting\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5348"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}