Chotu Sabzi

Things never really change, do they? Lets ponder.

I usually frequent this thella for my chai and drag on my way back from work in the evenings. The space has a few plastic stools strewn around for you to sit on while you munch on some of the fried snacks on offer. If you took the time to glance around, you could see a few regulars and a slew of new faces there every day. Some of the regulars had unofficially booked themselves a few stools in the far corner of the space for their daily post-work banter.

Chotu invisibly brought everyone their chai until a few days back. He went about his tasks sharing a quick smile with the ones who looked his way. Things were normal… until chai pe charcha became a manufactured rage. That day on, he became Saabji for quite a few. They would involve him in their discussions more often than before; in a heady mix of mocking and serious overtones. Chotu took it all in his stride. Then came a day when someone thought it funny to bring in the cliched Nepali accent into the fray, and he became Shaabzee. Meanwhile the election campaigns continued their unrelenting bombardment of hashtags, development propaganda, empowerment propaganda and abki baars… And then elections concluded, and with it faded the public memory of the context. In the age where brevity rules, the time had come to further shorten Chotu’s given name.

Sabzi brings us our chai these days. Things surely are Modified now, no?

Context: Penned after the 2014 general elections in India.