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salons have got the mechanics worked out to the last strand. There are
actual membership cards, to catalogue the frequency and the moolah
quotient of your visits. When you graduate to gold class, you win a free
pedicure or whatever. And yeah, you can book now and pay as and when you
visit, in easy instalments. Never mind if the tools they use to saw your
talons and graze your heels look about 20 years old. (As do some of our
aircrafts, for that matter). But never mind, the price is the determining
factor that drives in the janta.
Then perceive the floating (irrespective of Terrible Tuesday) population
of bhajiwallahs. Kicked off their bakhras time and again, with their booty
by the BMC men, they take roots easily within 24 hours at another location
just a hop away. You’ve got to admire their resilience and ingenuity. They
all have cellphones (RIM zindabad) and delivery boys akin to kirana
stores, to take orders for fruits, veggies and eggs, whichever part of the
Village they are located in at that moment. So you’ll get your morning
nariyal paani whether the BMC strikes or not. And taazi bhaji at your
doorstep, with the masala, and Rs 5 discount. Cool or what? Actually the
cramped quarters of many eateries here lead them to offer 20% discount on
home delivery orders. So you can savage the tandoori chicken at home while
catching your late night movie on TV. Even the paanwalla outside Thakur
cinema delivers betel delights and puff sticks till 2 am. It doesn’t get
any better.
Okay, so we Villagers are a garrulous, fun and food-loving, market savvy
lot. We burst spontaneously into songs at MDCs, cheer lustily when
Ganapati Bappa comes every year and know a good deal when we see one. I
say that’s what adds to Thakur Village’s special share of the realty pie.
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