The pickle seller

One humid evening in April In Kolkata.
I had just been back from work, when ma reminded me that we had this plan of going out to buy some cooking oil from the nearest food mall. We were supposed to buy in bulk as they were offering solid discounted rates, so both of us needed to go.
So, our outing was pretty focused, & it was not just one of those evening strolls. We took the short cut & were walking in medium pace, occasionally talking.
Suddenly, we were intercepted by a young man approaching from the other end of the semi-dark, narrow shortcut lane.
He was of medium height, had a thin frame, curly hair & half shaven cheeks.
He was carrying an immensely big bag in either hand, which seemed heavy enough to slow down his walk.

"Pickles...?" He asked, softly, as he stopped in front of us, "Do you want to buy pickles?"
"No...wha...."we were both so taken by surprise, we had failed to respond in any way.
"Home-made ones..."he continued, "very tasty...all made by my mother...try the sweet lime...or maybe the green mango"...while he spoke, he had put down the bags & started taking out little & big bottles from them. As his confidence of being able to sell his condiments to us began to rise, me & ma started to mumble soft protests, which he seemed to not hear at all. He was going on suggesting different flavours & taking out bottles, even made me hold one or two, when I finally summed up the vocal strength to say,
"No, thank you"....
"You have to taste one of these, miss"...he smiled at me, visibly a little upset smile, "they are all made with poppy paste, very tasty...I sell to so many people in this area & all over the city...I also sell to filmstars, you know!"
"Umm..yes I know..." I replied, "they must be very very good, but I don't need it right now!"
And then I stopped all of a sudden, for a little incident that had happened exactly a year back from that evening flashed across my mind!
"Okay..."I said slowly, "let's sample a sweet mango pickle...."
"We have pickles at home!" ma whispered, "why are you buying again?"
"I guess this will be good to taste!" I replied, smiling, "you will like it."

Secretly, I knew he had charged us a tad higher than the market rates. But I never mentioned that even to my own self, for I was not only buying pickles here...I was keeping a long forgotten promise!

Me and Kausik had planned to buy takeaway from Mirch Masala, the best known Indian restaurant in South Kolkata, and take it back to Salt Lake to dine with my parents in law.
As we took the food packets from the take away counter & proceeded towards our car, we saw this thin young man coming towards us. He intercepted us, exactly the way he had done today, & asked,
"Pickles? will you buy good home-made pickles?" It was already 9.30pm, and we had to drive back a whole 14 kilometers & eat dinner. Understandably, we had no time, I felt irritated.
"No thanks!" I blurted & continued walking.
"You wont?" the man had said, & added, "okay, so will you buy it next time?"
"Yes I will." I replied without thinking much, & we walked away from each other.

And then I stopped & looked at Kausik,
"How will I buy his pickles next time? where will I meet him?"
His last sentence had a deep lasting impression on me. We had both noticed the look in his eyes. For a man with his kind of tattered clothes & hard life, he had eyes like a saint. He had an amount of poetry in his eyes, a faraway look, as if he really didnt belong here, as if all this selling he was doing had not touched his soul.....he was just passing time while waiting to take his flight of passion....

I felt guilty of having made a false promise, which I knew was almost impossible to fulfill.

But today I was very happy. My guilt was gone. As he handed me the bottle & walked away from me, I resumed my walk towards the mall with a smile on my face.