There is a shopping complex at a stone’s throw distance from my house. It is called “Oval Emporium”, due to its round shape. The beauty of the complex lies in its design : a structure that is designed on the pattern of concentric circles. The smallest cross- section represents its auditorium-cum-stage.
The complex comprises arcades of specific goods like garments, stationary goods, sports commodities, electrical appliances and many other things. Naturally, it not only presents a tempting spot for shopping, but also is attractive to people who find time heavy on them. There are tea-coffee stalls, stalls where hot foods and snacks make brisk business.
In fact, the complex is a part of the steel colony where my uncle serves. I am here for a short term. I find that the shops maintain a good standard. No wonder. The employees of the plant are well-paid and the general purchasing power is commendable. Being near a great city like Kolkata, the tastes of buyers are also reasonably good. But the shopkeepers are more realistic, which is but natural. They know there are grades of buyers and keep assorted goods or articles of various ranges and prices. I love books and I barged into it. I found it was a good one, but mostly they included school and college textbooks. I asked the man if it was all they kept. At this he took me to an inner apartment where books of general reading were preserved. I, however, did not find the book I required, but saw some classics and other readable matter. I learnt that the shopkeeper is an unemployed master-degree holder of the Burdwan University. He did well at the M.A., but he is unemployed as no further appointments are recommended by the UGC.
“The garments corner is the most popular and usually most crowded. Some of the shops dispense costly dresses and give credit card facilities. Their chief concern is to retain their rich customers lest they are lured (= attracted) to Kolkata for lack of proper facilities. But at the same time their dealings with the lower strata of the people are equally polite and solicitous (= secking to please them). They are well aware, it seems, that in Bengal the general culture of the people is refined and of a decent standard. Even a sweeper is self-righteous/conscious of his own rights. The youth in the book-shop secretly told me that he has kept a provision where, in case of costly books, one is given the privilege to pay in installments. The offer, however, is exclusively his prerogative (=personal choice) and not a summary offer. He assured me that he can judge the character and quality of the buyer and his solvency (= monetary soundness).
I discovered from a gentleman that there is also home-delivery of goods. The servicing charge appeared to me a bit high. But my informer told that servicing here, is done by boys drawn from the weaker sections of the society. This is a clause incorporated in the terms and conditions that are antecedent (= comes before) to one’s getting a stall.
The above, I am sure, must give one the impression of something impeccable (= flawless). It did so to the writer, too. Everything spruce (= smart and showy) and neat draws one in the first instance; time and use reveals the flaws. Likewise the shopping complex betrayed its flaws with time. I shall mention only two glaring kiosks (= makeshift stalls) that make money on the sly. The one is a medical shop that lies tucked in a corner of one of the inner arcs of the complex. I was once obliged to visit it. At first I could not spot it for its obscurity; but in the very first deal he fleeced (-charged abnormally) me. I protested mildly, but I was told more mildly and with Shylock-like Jewish courtesy that the freight they pay is burdensome. Let it be known that the General Medical Stores is too far for petty purchases. I realized that my over-polished salesman is farsighted enough: he saves such customers from the botheration and expense of undertaking long bus-ride upto the bigger shop, what though he charges a few chips in excess! So, he is a well-wisher! The other shop is that of haircutting saloon. Here, too, I was unfortunately barbered (= duped: Shakespearean use). Its posh coach; shiny mirrors, scissors, razors and other paraphernalia (= things of use) attracted me. I went in with a smug (= neat/doubtless) confidence. My hairstyle being a bit at odds with the modern normal styles, I advised the barber at work to observe some caution. The shop-manager sitting at the corner with his till-box was observing, I found. When the operation haircut was complete I saw myself completely metamorphosed (= changed in features)! Before I could voice my feelings, the sombre-looking (= of grave appearance) manager interposed (= came between), “He has followed your instructions to the better, sir.” I learnt that the manager often changes his personnels and my murderer was his most recent recruit.