“Polka dots madam? Pink with white dots. Matches your dress. Perfect fit. No. Not pink? I have other colors – red, black, green, blue – all colours of the rainbow” the sales boy went through his spiel. I wanted to put on my teacher face and stare down at him and say “Don’t you know black is not one of the 7 colours in the rainbow? Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo and Violet. Now repeat after me” But I did not instead I said dismissively “Not this pattern. Show me something else boy”

I sat in that rickety stool waiting, watching and perspiring. It was one of those days. Humid. Sticky. Sweaty. I could feel the pools of sweat under my arms and hoped that my deodorant worked.  I glanced up at the fan twirling over my head. “As if glowering at it will make it run faster” I muttered. The teeny-tiny dusty room with shelves crammed with everything from toilet cleaners to torchlights was a bit claustrophobic – a fire hazard, a trip hazard and just a disaster waiting to happen. “Royal Fancy Store” was what it was called – fancy name indeed.

“Latest pattern madam – flowers just like in movies madam. White with orange flowers or pink flowers? You like pink madam? Solid piece. Very fancy” the boy declared thrusting the umbrella in my hand. The boy clad in black shorts and a baniyan was on a roll. I vaguely wondered if why he was not at school. He was probably around 14 or 15 -just another lanky teen with a silver tongue and a flair for glib. I twirled the umbrella in my hand and looked at the cherry blossom pattern on it. “Not this. Not this. Look at the handle – so flimsy. I want good quality. The best quality you have and if this is the best I am leaving” I declared putting the white umbrella in the counter.

The boy turned and started climbing up the shelves, pulling out boxes, balancing rather precariously and muttering to himself. “No not this box. The blue one at the back or was it the green box”. He had 2 boxes balanced on his left while pulling another one on the right – all this while he was a good 7 feet above ground level. I felt dizzy watching him. “He needs help” I thought looking around to see if there was someone who could help him. “Thump thump” – boxes hit the ground and other boxes piled on the ground and down he jumped with a green cardboard box.

“This box madam – special umbrellas – foreign quality. No rusting, no tears, no breaking. Just what you want. Expensive but I give special price for you” he surmised opening the box. I peered hopefully into the box. Umbrellas packed and lined together – like sausages in a tin can. Brollys of every colour imaginable – teal and fushia. Orche and turquoise lay waiting. I picked the red one and opened it. Struggled with it and literally threw it back muttering “China make. Fake as fake can be. Will not last one rain. I will find another shop that stocks decent stuff”. Picking up my bag, I got up from the rickety stool in slow motion.

I had no intension of leaving Royal Fancy without a new umbrella but this was a ritual. A ritual of finding fault with everything and complaining. A ritual of compromising or atleast pretending to do so in hopes of better deal. It was the way of shopping at a fancy store. It was an art. One I had perfected over the years. It was my indulgence these days. On those unbearable hot afternoons, I called for an auto to take me to one of the fancy stores in search of perfection – a perfect umbrella today. It was the perfect clock last fortnight. The perfect calendar a few months back. The list varied but the routine did not. Every fortnight or so, I indulged – the indulgences of an old lady. Dressing up in a pretty dress decades old and that usually smelling of moth balls, black patent leather shoes on my feet, and my white hair pulled into a neat bun – small pleasures they gave me.

“No No madam. Please wait. I will show you more. How about this? Animal umbrella with ears and funny face?” No madam. These are not kid umbrellas – latest fashion madam. Big size one for adults. No not this? OK how about this ruffles one? Very chic. Just like Reena in the latest movie madam. You saw that? Very stylish” he was full of words and his hands flew everywhere around. Pointing, opening, picking and showcasing the best features of the umbrellas. I picked the pink one with ruffles. It was clearly not my style. I preferred the good old black umbrellas – sturdy and dependable.

I twirled the fancy umbrella in my hand. Felt the fabric. Opened it. Checked the buttons, the spokes – every single one of them. I examined it from every angle and declared “Ok I will take it. What is the price? Give me the best rate and be quick about it. I already wasted 30 minutes trying to explain things to you” I berated looking at my watch.

This post is a part of the April A to Z challenge. 26 days, 26 letters and 26 short stories. Come back tomorrow for more.