It
was our last tour day in Jaipur. We were on a five day trip. The Amber fort was
all that left to see. It lay over a hill known as the hill of eagles. One can
climb over the hill by walk or reach there by an elephant ride. The elephant ride
would cost Rs.1200/- per person, one way. I felt the cost a little exorbitant.
There were a lot of foreigners waiting their turn for the ride. It was almost a
steep climb and the path was gravelly. One could get slid, if walked
carelessly. I remembered an old native
saying which meant that a slip can cause even an elephant to fall. Our own slip
from the ground will be less risky than the slip of an elephant on top of which
we sit. Moreover, you need to have a little courage to go near and repose your faith
on that animal. One can never predict its behaviour. With all this in my mind, I asked my wife
whether she would like to have a ride on an elephant to the top of the hill. I
knew that she was not more courageous than me and I could well guess her reply.
“It
is risky”, she replied. That finalized the option. We started the climb in slow
steps, enjoying the beauty around and down the hill. There were many people
climbing along with us.
As
we reached the top, a man, almost above his middle ages, came to us and offered
to guide us in the fort and the palaces. On the previous day, in another fort,
I had disposed of the services of a guide thinking that the sign boards were
enough to guide me. I considered that a guide would be an intruder to our own
free and private movements. But we had lost our way somewhere inside the fort
and it was a security guard who came to our rescue. Not only that, the security
guard himself became a guide and explained to us the stories behind each and
every monument. We would have missed a lot to see and know, had he not appeared
before us like a saviour. So, I was quite convinced of the importance of a
guide during such visits. Some guides had approached me earlier on the way
itself. But they were all too young to know much as I could gather it from
their talks itself. Here was a man I was looking for. He talked in good English
and looked like a genius with a treasure of knowledge. He flipped open a card
to show us that he was an authorized guide accredited to the State Tourism
Department. I told myself that the deal has to be struck beforehand.
“How
much would be your charges?’, I asked politely.
“Three
Hundred rupees, sir”, He replied.
“You
would definitely realize that it was more worthy than you expected”, he added a
little ghee to what he already replied, in case it was not enough tasty to me.
“Not
only that, I can take snaps of you two together with your camera at the most
beautiful places”, he added some sugar too.
Good
enough. I felt that three hundred rupees was quite a reasonable amount. His
offer to take photographs was already in my mind to be requested for. Now, that
has come without asking.
I
agreed. He took us in and around, explained everything and I felt that what he
said was true. His guidance was worthier than what he charged. While climbing
down, he came along with us and offered to show us the beautiful collection of
handloom works from the Amber village industries nearby. I was not interested. We
had already completed our tour purchases a day before. It was nothing much. We
had bought few Jaipur silk saris and some special sweets of Jaipur. That was
enough. I didn’t want any more addition to my baggage. But our guide insisted.
“You
need not buy anything sir. It doesn’t cost you anything to see them. Handloom
works are also a major tourist attraction in Jaipur”, he said.
The
taxi cab we came was waiting for us down the hill in a different direction from
where the guide was trying to take us to.
“We
would have to walk a lot to reach our car if we go down this way”, I pointed
out to the guide.
“Do
not worry about that sir, we would drop you there in our own vehicle after the
shopping.” the guide assured.
I
noted his words ‘after the shopping’. He had earlier said that we need not buy
anything, but now he was expecting us to buy something.
“This is where the game starts”, I whispered
to my wife.
“He
must be a beneficiary by way of a handsome commission, if we make purchases at
the shop displaying handlooms works”, I explained to her. But she kept mum.
“He is going to take us for a ride. Should we
stand for it?” I was almost bursting out in rage in our own language so that the
guide doesn’t understand.
“Let
us see how far he can take us for a ride”, she was calm while replying.
So,
that was it. Elephant ride was not so amusing to her, but a shopping definitely
was.
“Okay.
Be it then.” I said loudly for her, and also for the guide to hear.
The
shop looked small from outside, but inside it was quite spacious. At the
entrance room, there was a table on which lay small bottles which contained
liquids of different colours. There were tools and materials such as brushes
and other things kept nearby which gave me the impression that I have entered
inside a laboratory. Some hand woven cloths were found hanging. There were
various plants in a garden nearby. The man at the table began to give us a
demonstration on how the colours are made from natural plants and how they are
imprinted on the woven cloths. He said that being natural colours, it would
never fade off. He showed us how the colours imprinted right in front of us
minutes ago, remained bright even when he tried to wash away them with water. The
demonstration went on for about twenty minutes. Then he opened the curtain to a
side room and guided us to a larger room where the different handloom works
were stalked for display and sale. There were saris, jewellery, quilts,
bedsheets, dress materials, statues and a variety of other items. He said that all the items are manufactured
in the nearby Amber village where about 400 labourers are solely making a
livelihood by manufacturing them. He said that all the shops in the city were
supplied by them and that it would be cheaper if we bought anything from there.
He
had already started spreading out different saris, calling them by different
names. I looked at my wife and saw that she had set her eyes on a few saris and
was asking for its other varieties , colours and designs. It would be awkward
now to leave the place without buying anything, I thought. Two or three saris
wouldn’t be much of an addition. We have our daughters also to give. A few pieces
of jewellery could also be taken. These things won’t go surplus and we could
carry them in a separate hand bag, if need be. We selected three saris and a
few pieces of jewellery that my wife liked and asked them to pack. We were
about to get up, when the man requested us to wait a little. He called out for
a man. When he came, he asked him to show us the quilts.
I
knew what a quilt was. I had used it
while in Delhi, where it is too cold in winter. But in my home state Kerala, it
was not required at all at any time during the year. So, I told the shop keeper
that we do not need them.
I
tried to convince him that we have a hot weather all through the year and we
never use quilts to cover our body and that a
blanket, at the most, was only required even during the winter time.
“But
who says that the quilt can be used only during winter?’, he queried.
“Our
quilts are such that you can spread it out as a bed during summer and cover
yourself to save your body in the winter.” he explained its merits.
Meanwhile,
the man had brought one quilt from inside and spread it out. It had beautiful
prints and looked very impressive.
“But
we do not need them any way. Moreover, it is not possible for us to carry them
with us during our journey.”, I told him my difficulties.
“No
tourist leaves Jaipur without buying quilts because Jaipur quilt is a speciality”,
he said.
The
other man was bringing out more and more quilts from inside, each equally
competent, decorative and attractive. I was myself getting tempted. The
indication of it was that I started asking the price for each.
I
was sure that I was not going to buy it, because there was no way for me to
carry such big bundles. We had already
made a few purchases and so I felt that there was nothing wrong in just asking
the prices. The prices were reasonable. There was a board hanging on the wall which
said that the prices are fixed. So, there was no point in arguing on the prices
nor was there any need when I have decided not to buy. All the same, I thought
I should appreciate the workmanship and beauty of the quilts, just as a passing
remark for which I need not pay a penny.
“The
quilts are quite attractive and the prices also look reasonable.” I said.
“They
are in sets too, in which each set will have one bed spread, one cover and two
pillow covers of the same colour, design and material.”, he was now more
enthusiastic. “They are light in weight and are washable with hands”, he became
more narrative of its advantages.
I
asked the prices.
“Each
set costs four thousand rupees, but if you buy two sets together you will get
them for Seven thousand five hundred rupees”, he said.
One
set consisted of two large quilts of equal size with two pillow covers. It
would only be the cost for two large bed sheets in Kerala. I felt that the
price was convincing.
“They
are beautiful. But we don’t need them anyway”, I whispered to my wife.
“We
don’t need them but our daughters would like them. We can give them as a present back from the
tour”, she replied.
Loudly
I said to the shop keeper, “We like them, but we are not in a position to carry
them”.
“You
need not carry them. We can send it as parcel by post”, he had a solution for everything.
“The
postal charges would be borne by us”, he assured.
“You
need to pay only fifty percent of the cost now and the balance can be paid when
the parcel reaches you”, he went on. “Ninety percent of our sales to the
tourists are sent through parcel only, as no one wants to carry huge bundles”,
he continued explaining his mode of operation and showed us some bundles packed
and sealed perfectly and kept ready to be sent with the address of the
customers neatly written on them.
I
had no reason to disagree. When that was also settled, he requested me to have
a look at the shoes displayed. “They are made of camel leather”, he said. “It
has a medicinal value for rheumatic patients and can never get damaged as no
wrinkles would appear even if you fold or twist it. He demonstrated it by
twisting and folding and they were found to be very flexible. I decided to buy
one cheap pair among them the cost of which was only five hundred rupees. I
said the shoes can also be parcelled along with the quilts. I didn’t want to
carry them. For the saris and jewellery, I paid the money in full and decided
to carry along.
He
made a separate bill for the items to be parcelled. The total cost came to
Eight thousand rupees. So, I paid half of it as advance. He gave me a paper and
asked to pen down my address in capital letters along with my phone number. I
felt more convinced of our deal.
I
did consider the chance of him not sending them later in which case I would
simply stand to lose the amount. But I had been to the city now for quite a few
days and I had interacted with tourist guides, taxi drivers etc and I had noted
that the people in general are trustworthy. A wholesale merchant cannot be
different, I presumed.
“When
are you leaving Jaipur?”, the merchant asked.
“Tomorrow”,
I replied.
“The
parcel would reach you within five days from tomorrow”, he assured.
“It
is only when you see things that you can decide whether to buy or not”, the
guide said to us.
“True”,
I replied and paid him his charges. As
promised, he made arrangement to drop us at the place where our cab was waiting.
I
didn’t doubt on the integrity of the merchant until ten days passed after my
arrival back home. The parcel had not arrived as promised. I, then, decided to give a ring to him. His
bill was with me. I rang first on the landline number of the shop.
“It seems you have dialed a wrong number”,
was the only reply came from BSNL even when I repeatedly tried. For the mobile
number, there was no ring tone coming at all.
I
kept on trying repeatedly on the mobile number and on the next day it rang.
Someone attended. I couldn’t make out a word of what he said continuously,
without bothering even to listen what the caller had to say. I couldn’t even
understand the language that he talked. But I guessed that he was talking
furiously. Might be that I made a mistake on the number called. I cut the call
and dialed again. The same person took the phone and began to talk loudly and
more furiously. He might probably be abusing me. I cut off the line. I told my
wife that we had lost the money. If I was to see him in person, I would have to
spend more than what I had lost and that too with no surety on its prospects. I
took out the bill and read out the terms and conditions. One condition was that
in case of any dispute, the legal jurisdiction would be at Jaipur. No way to
file a case too.
“Just
let us think that it is also part of our tour expense”, I tried to pacify
myself rather than her.
I
was badly depressed and frustrated at being a victim for someone to pull out my
legs so easily.
Three
days still passed.
It
was then that a call came from our postman who was a friend of mine. He said
that a big parcel has come on my name from Jaipur and for collecting it I was
to pay four thousand rupees.
I
told him that I would come and collect it later.
When
I informed it to my wife, she was very glad and told me to collect it fast.
“No,
I am not going to collect it. It could be a bundle of old rags”, I said.
“The
fellow must have planned to get the other four thousand also from me”, I
expressed my doubt.
“But
you can come to know when you open and see”, said my wife.
“Sure,
but the money has to be given first to the postman.” I pointed out.
She
had nothing to say to that and kept mum.
In
my mind I had decided to take the risk, but I didn’t want my wife to know about
it. Because, I didn’t want even my wife to know that someone could fool me
repeatedly.
I
took my car and went to the post office, without my wife knowing it.
I
brought the bundle home and carried it upstairs, without my wife knowing it.
I
closed the door to my room and started to unpack the neatly sealed up bundle.
The quilts were there inside as fresh and beautiful as we had seen them. Also inside was the pair of shoes.
Heaving
a sigh of relief, I opened the door and called out for my wife.
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