Tangents
The Card <i>Store</i>
Joshim and Ronny at the card store. Photo: Ihtisham Kabir
Tiny but colourful, they pop up in many Dhaka neighbourhoods about the time of Eid: those cube-shaped shops selling Eid greeting cards. A sheet of brightly coloured cloth draped around four bamboo posters holds the structure together. The cards hang in rows from horizontal strings suspended from the posters, smaller ones on top. The salesman inside is inevitably a youngster. Sometimes there is an assistant. I stop by one such store in Rampura after its two shopkeepers call out to me. They are Ronny and Joshim. Ronny is the serious one, Joshim is jovial. I ask them where they go to school. “I study in Class Eight at Iqramunnesa School,” says Ronny. “Me? I work.” says Joshim matter-of-factly. Eid cards of all shapes are on offer. I notice their decor and message is different than cards of my childhood. Secular subject matter has replaced the solemn and sacred images. Pictures of flowers are popular. So is scenic beauty. “Who buys these cards?” I ask. “Mostly kids, but adults buy them too, specially the larger ones,” replies Ronny. The text is usually in English. One says “Promise to keep... I promise extra love,” while another pointedly asks “Do you remember me?” under a red rose. They range in price from ten taka to fifty taka. Younger children buy the smallest cards for their friends. Taking a closer look, I realise more than Eid greeting cards are on offer. For example, those tiny stickers that you wet and apply to your skin are available in several sizes, ranging in price from two to six taka, featuring heroes and heroines of various persuasions. There are also pocket cards -playing-card sized photos of Bombay stars, which sell for two taka. I am intrigued by these cards, reminiscent of American baseball cards. Sure enough, they are for collectors, with serious ones having many stacks of them. The store has an absentee owner. It is squeezed into a tiny spot near the market, and there is no rent to pay. It is open all day, sunrise to sunset, until Eid. Our young salesmen are patient if a little perfunctory. When I ask Ronny about his school teachers, he replies they are very good. “But do they beat you up sometime for creating mischief?” Ever the diplomat, he says “If someone misbehaves in class, they must be punished, don't you think?” But he smiles when I ask him about his future. “I want to be a doctor,” he replies confidently. Joshim, it turns out, works as a trouble-shooter for a cable business, hooking up cable TV connections. “So how come you are working here also?” I ask. “I am always on call for the cable company. If they call me on the mobile, I have to run and fix the problem,” he replies. A young customer arrives and buys a small flower card. Ronny carefully inserts it into an envelope and hands it over. As the customer leaves, I too bid goodbye. www.facebook.com/tangents.ikabir
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