A Good Bargain!!!

Bargaining--- some enjoy it, many find it demeaning. But for me, bargaining is fun—if I can manage a deal on big brand it makes my day. And no shopping spree is worth its moolah without an argument with the shopkeeper. Be it looking for fake brands in the bylanes of Janpath or my recent conquest at the Surajkund Mela, I just can't help myself. I have to get every penny's worth.

The moment I reached the Surajkund Mela, I knew I had already swiped my ATM card.

But what was more exciting was that it was a virgin territory for me. I had been to the place once. In those days, it was merely a monument with a water body that solely depended on rain to get into action.


But now life has changed. There is the mela, and a famous one at that! This means long queues, tickets and of course people – loads of them.


Now being a journalist, how can I buy an entry ticket? Isn't my card – and that too nothing less than my "TV PRESS" card -- enough to get me in anywhere and everywhere? I had decided that tickets are not for me. They are for the 'masses'.
So, while I stuck in my shoes defying rules, my friends Archana and gang suffered the long queue and the ticket ritual.


At the entry, I flaunted my card to the security guard in the typical 'I am a TV journalist style.' Thanks to that 'style', he barely comprehended what the card was all about. Another guard, who seemed to be his 'senior', shouted, "Echcuse (excuse) me, Madam, zara card dikhaiye (please show me the card ).I was offended. How dare he stop a TV journalist? No, am not the one to give up. I yelled back, "Why should I show it to you again, isn't once enough? What do you think I have come here to show you my card a hundred times?" After vomiting out my journalistic ego, I showed him the card again and walked in – fine if he wants to see it again, be my guest.


My friends did not approve of this at all. Archana accused the entire species of journalists of being rude, egoistic, self obsessed, looking down upon "commoners" (I liked this one, which means we are 'special').She even went to the extent of saying "It really requires courage to go out with people like you and only such people can opt for this career." This was difficult to take. But you see I forgive friends.


Finally, we were in. There was yellow, red, orange, blue…. The place was beautiful enough to let me forget the ticket and the guard – even Archana's rude remarks! Our initial strategy was simple: .Ask the price, look at each other and say "expensive "and switch to the next stall. After doing this for a while, we made a joint statement that everything was just too expensive.


To be honest, it is difficult to resist a place like this. So we gave in eventually and plunged into our main agenda… shopppping. Our first bargain was a mat woven with colourful threads.


While Archana bought it for floor.The journalist in me decided to be 'creative' and use it on the wall. You see, we are different, after all. Even as we were busy shopping, a thought was running through my mind, "How do I prove to Archana that it is this very attitude that keeps us journalists going."


I got my chance at designer Jagpreet Chawla's stall who deals in pottery and glass murals. I asked him, " Kya yahan par photo keench le, bhaisahab?"(Shall I click some photos here) and in an arrogant tone he let me. After clicking a few shots, Mr. Chawla was annoyed. He said, "Madam bahut photu- shotu kheench liya, ab chaliye yahan se, bahut ho gaya"(madam no more photography please make a move).


This is exactly what I was yearning for. I took a quick glance and without wasting a single moment I told her this is what happens if journalists start seeking permissions. We will never get a story or the information that these prim-and –propah varieties love to watch and read. I had made my point.


Not a bad bargain, I thought, while hanging up my new wall carpet.

(Thanks NH)