The Vendor of Sweets

When the cousin comes to the shop two days later, Jagan has lowered the price of every sweets packet to “25 paise.” Many people buy from the shop, and the store runs out of sweets by 5 p.m. Jagan tells his alarmed employees that they can go home now that the sweets are sold—but that the shop won’t lower the number or caliber of sweets it produces. When one employee asks how they’ll manage, the cousin interjects that the shop is experimenting with new practices to stay competitive. The employees asks whether they should start making more sweets to meet increased demand now that the prices are lower, but Jagan says they’ll act as usual for the next 15 days and see how things go.

Jagan tells his employees that he’ll teach them how to spend their increased free time profitably and announces that he’ll read them the Bhagavad Gita for an hour every day. After reading the first few lines, Jagan says that Gandhi read the Gita to his followers daily because it is a book to be read continually, not just once—as the fight against England was continual.

Jagan keeps reading, boring his employees, until three visitors unexpectedly arrive: the owner of the Ananda Bhavan restaurant, the owner of the law courts canteen, and a bearded man whom Jagan doesn’t know. After some polite introductory chitchat, the Ananda Bhavan owner asks why Jagan has lowered his prices. When Jagan says it’s so more people can enjoy sweets, the Ananda Bhavan owner implies that Jagan is harming other food vendors.

Jagan says he’ll send his customers to his visitors’ shops if his visitors adhere to “pure quality.” The Ananda Bhavan owner says that he was able to purchase good ingredients at reasonable prices back in 1956, but not anymore. Jagan, quoting the Gita, says that determined people can find what they’re looking for and offers to help his visitors get good ingredients. The canteen owner quotes the Gita in return, saying that it tells people to do their duty “in the right spirit and the right measure”—then he asks straight out whether Jagan is doing that. Jagan can’t answer. Then the Ananda Bhavan owner says in a dead-serious tone that if Jagan lowers his prices, the others will be expected to as well—does he want that?

Jagan, confused, asks an employee to fetch sodas for his visitors. The Ananda Bhavan owner suggests that they finish talking business first. He says that the assembled businessmen are so beset by problems that it would make sense to close down their shops, but they can’t do that to their poor customers. When Jagan asks what these problems are, the incredulous Ananda Bhavan and canteen owners complain about tax inspectors, health inspectors, and government regulations about announcing their “frying medium”—when substitutes for “pure butter-melted ghee” are now barely less expensive than ghee itself. Jagan asks why they don’t just use ghee, then—massively annoying the owners.

Jagan’s employee comes back with the sodas. When the Ananda Bhavan owner asks why Jagan isn’t having one, Jagan says that he only drinks four ounces of water daily. He is beginning to explain how he began this practice while in jail when his visitors interrupt him. The Ananda Bhavan owner and canteen owner suggest that it’s fine if Jagan wants to temporarily lower prices, but if he intends to do it for a long time, that’s another thing entirely—and they’re planning “on [his] cooperation.” Jagan, not understanding, says he’s all for cooperation. The visitors leave. 

A bit later, the bearded man comes back into the shop. He introduces himself to Jagan; he used to be called “Chinna Dorai” to distinguish him from his master “Peria Dorai—the small master and the big master.” When Jagan asks him about his master, the bearded man asks how many temples Jagan has visited. Jagan claims to have visited many, and the bearded man tells him that the gods in “temples all over the south” (that is, sculptures of the gods) were produced by his master. Jagan feels abruptly sorry that he’s been too busy with business to visit a temple for a long time. He assures the bearded man of his piety and sings some hymns by Sambhandar.

After some further chat, Jagan asks the bearded man where his master lived. The bearded man says it’s relatively nearby, offers to take Jagan there sometime, and then asks whether Jagan crosses the river. Jagan regretfully considers how many years he has spent going only between his house and the sweet shop and thinking only about Mali, the cousin, and his business. He remembers how, in his youth, he listened to Gandhi give inspiring speeches and tells the bearded man that Gandhi was his master. The bearded man, apparently uninterested in any master but his own, asks when Jagan can come with him to his master’s place. Jagan says he’ll come tomorrow. 

Jagan asks the bearded man whether he carves his own images at his master’s place. The bearded man, laughing, explains that he now fashions hair-dyes—and the Ananda Bhavan owner is his most regular customer. When he says he’s glad to have met Jagan, Jagan says he’s glad to have met “an image-maker”—and the bearded man says Jagan hasn’t met one now, “only a blackener of white hair.” He asks whether Jagan needs his hair dyed, and Jagan—alarmed at how Mali and Grace might react, supposing they even noticed—gently declines. Then, remembering his book, he tells the bearded man that diet determines whether one’s hair ever grays.