MOST I EVER WORKED FOR JUICE

your juice shop could never be this happening

If you were to take a short walk outside my university, you would most probably find yourself coming across the neighboring chingrighata market. The place is maze-like with several lanes and by-lanes, each of which is strewn with shops, parlours, and restaurants. Ranging from parathas to phone covers, and chai to shaves, you could find anything over there. While the shops in chingrighata become more memorable the farther one treads, most people don’t go past Shaw’s juice shop. While a relatively small stall, Mr. Shaw’s shop is one of the first places someone new to the locality is introduced to. The location of the shop - built right at the entrance of the market, combined with the tasty juices served, make this stall a go-to hang out spot after dinner for many.

One evening, me and a friend took a walk to chingrighata. While the walk was for a couple of cups of evening chai, we made a stop at a Shaw’s Juice Shop. My friend ordered a glass of guava juice (to-go). An unusual order at the establishment, Mr. Shaw first tried selling us some mosambi juice as an alternative. All persuasion was wasted on my friend - guava juice it was. When convincing failed, the man behind the counter told us that his stall did not have any guavas left. However, this did not mean we would be going back empty handed. Mr. Shaw was an enterprising man. Mr. Shaw had an idea.

He promptly made a short phone call, and after a series of affirming words and sounds - we proceeded to brief us on our ‘mission’ to acquire guavas. He told us that he would make us fresh juice if we could get him the fruits. Mr. Shaw had phoned a fruit vendor in chingri ghata itself, and had taken the liberty to tell him that two of his customers would be visiting him to pick up a quarter kilo of guavas. With these instructions, we set off to the fruit shop. Unlike Mr. Shaw and his enterprise, I do not remember the name of the fruit stall or its owner. We reached the ‘pick-up point’ after a short walk. The man at the fruit shop handed us a bag of guavas when we told him that Mr. Shaw had sent us without asking for any money (implying that this was a common occurrence).

My friend and I found this whole adventure quite comical. The rather systematic feel to this whole experience begged the question of how many customers before us were made to journey between the fruit seller and fruit ‘juicer’ of chingrighata. I had never been asked to source raw material at a juice shop, which made this experience quite fun and involving. (I believe there is an important MBA lesson hidden somewhere)

While I visit the market almost everyday, this particular trip was definitely one of the more memorable ones.