Delhiwale: chasing a cream roll vendor
Evening, half past seven. The glass case of cream rolls was nearly empty. Just 10 remain. Around eight in the morning, Sher Khan began with 300 cream rolls. No one may return home until the last cream roll has been consumed. This is his daily routine.
Here is a random day taken from this gentleman’s life. Sher Khan rises at 6 a.m. at his residence in Hindon Vihar, Noida. By the age of seven, he is working in a “factory” that mass-produces cream rolls. Manufactured by bakers on the night shift, these flaky cream-filled sticks are sold by vendors around the Delhi region. Even yet, cream rolls are uncommon in the Capital, and especially in the upscale patisseries. Until a few years ago, Connaught Place food carts stocked them alongside “factory” burgers and “factory” patties. The gradual gentrification of the shopping district’s arcades and corridors has led to a decline in the number of shopping carts.
By late morning, the user of a Metro rail card has strayed far from Noida, penetrating well into the central Delhi alleyways. This afternoon, he is rushing through the lanes of Bhogal. He is carrying the glass case on his shoulder. A child’s eyes grow larger as she observes the cream rolls among the crowd. Her mother purchases two cream rolls at twenty rupees.
Sher Khan eats subzi-poori in a mithai shop an hour later while casually placing the glass case on a bench. “My brother is in the same line,” he replies, tapping his fingers slowly on the tabletop. Accepting the photograph, he analyses his image on the phone’s display. His eyebrows rise. “Not acceptable; take another picture without the face!”
One hour later, Sher Khan enters a subway station. Some hours later, he stands outside the Jama Mosque in Sadar Bazaar, Gurugram. When he sits on the mosque’s stairway, he holds the half-full glass case by his side and leans down to observe an old black dog snoozing in the plaza below. A man with crutches ascends the steep stairs slowly, his crutches producing a tak-tak sound as they traverse the stone steps. Sher Khan removes a roll from the stack and offers it to the man without speaking.
Minutes pass. Sher Khan is currently ambling among the bazaar shops. By 7:15, his glass case is nearly empty, with only 10 rolls remaining. The grey eyes are darting around the street in an attempt to snag the final clients of the day. He hopes to return home by ten.
