Across the road from our rooftop resturant in Mysore there is a ladies department store. Even though it is 8:30 at night the store is still open and very busy. From our high vantage point we can see through the big windows into each of the four floors where they are selling saris, shawls and 'salwar kameezs' - baggy trousers, tight at the ankles, with a long top and matching scarf. After our dinner we go in and look around. The walls are lined with shelves from floor to ceiling and they are filled with different coloured fabrics. In front of the shelves there are long, low display cabinets, like in an old fashioned department store, with shop girls standing behind them waiting to serve you.
This is the first time I have seen women working in public - all the street vendors, bus drivers and waiters are men. Their supervisor or manager however, is a man. He does lots of shouing at the girls doing the work. A shop girl comes up to us shyly after watching us for a while. She looks about 18 and asks our names, giggling as she trys to pronounce 'Imogen'. Her name is Narayani, which she says is another name for the Goddess Durga. She asks if Alex is married, and points to her feet, telling us that wearing a toe ring means that a girl is married. Alex laughs and says 'No, i'm too young!', then asks if Narayani is married. She laughs even louder than Alex did and says that no, she is also too young. She shows us around each floor, getting out lots of scarves and saris. She says that Indian women buy a new sari for every special occasion, and that it is very embarassing to wear the same one twice. Indian attics are full of boxes and boxes of saris all worn only once.
On the top floor, which is empty of customers, there is a group of about six girls sitting on the display cabinets. They stop talking when we walk in and stare at Narayani before asking her lots of quesions all at once. Narayani hushes them, and tells us proudly that the girls are all her friends. She introduces them to us and vice versa. I ask them if they enjoy working there, and they all nod and start talking at once. One of them notices my nose stud - 'like Indian woman'. I feel very not like an Indian woman. They are all beautifully dressed, with lots of jewellery and I am tired and hot with dirty feet and wearing what probably looks to them like pyjamas. I feel like I am not living up to their image of a western girl is like, or at least what I think their image of a western girl is - they are probably used to grubby travellers.
One of the girls then notices the tattoo on Alex's foot, gasps, and starts whispering to the girl next to her, who looks and exclaims 'you have a tattoo!'. I ask if they like tattoos and they say 'no, they are horrible!' and I laugh and agree. We leave the store with lots of good byes, waving, hand shakes and more pointing at the tattoo. Alex and I agree that, after a horrible 24 hours of buses and being ripped off, the past half hour has rekindled what was a dwindling intrest in all things India.
This is the first time I have seen women working in public - all the street vendors, bus drivers and waiters are men. Their supervisor or manager however, is a man. He does lots of shouing at the girls doing the work. A shop girl comes up to us shyly after watching us for a while. She looks about 18 and asks our names, giggling as she trys to pronounce 'Imogen'. Her name is Narayani, which she says is another name for the Goddess Durga. She asks if Alex is married, and points to her feet, telling us that wearing a toe ring means that a girl is married. Alex laughs and says 'No, i'm too young!', then asks if Narayani is married. She laughs even louder than Alex did and says that no, she is also too young. She shows us around each floor, getting out lots of scarves and saris. She says that Indian women buy a new sari for every special occasion, and that it is very embarassing to wear the same one twice. Indian attics are full of boxes and boxes of saris all worn only once.
On the top floor, which is empty of customers, there is a group of about six girls sitting on the display cabinets. They stop talking when we walk in and stare at Narayani before asking her lots of quesions all at once. Narayani hushes them, and tells us proudly that the girls are all her friends. She introduces them to us and vice versa. I ask them if they enjoy working there, and they all nod and start talking at once. One of them notices my nose stud - 'like Indian woman'. I feel very not like an Indian woman. They are all beautifully dressed, with lots of jewellery and I am tired and hot with dirty feet and wearing what probably looks to them like pyjamas. I feel like I am not living up to their image of a western girl is like, or at least what I think their image of a western girl is - they are probably used to grubby travellers.
One of the girls then notices the tattoo on Alex's foot, gasps, and starts whispering to the girl next to her, who looks and exclaims 'you have a tattoo!'. I ask if they like tattoos and they say 'no, they are horrible!' and I laugh and agree. We leave the store with lots of good byes, waving, hand shakes and more pointing at the tattoo. Alex and I agree that, after a horrible 24 hours of buses and being ripped off, the past half hour has rekindled what was a dwindling intrest in all things India.
This is a beautiful description of a lovely encounter. More of this please love Murv
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