Who will fit in her basket?

On a bright Monday morning Manikchand Lal stood overlooking a deserted street. On any other working day the street would have been jingling with commercial activity, but not today. All the retailers on that street had decided to shut shop for the day in protest of an impending policy decision by the central govt to allow FDI in multiband retail. Maniklal owns one of the biggest shops in that street, which is the hub for every grain merchant and he was for every practical reason a Retailer’s retailer- a wholesaler. 

Just as the press arrived the waiting retailers rose up in loud protests “Don’t sell the country to a new East India Company” and Maniklal was standing right in the front with a sign board reading “Wal-Mart is a death Trap”. A motley crowd was following these protesting retailers, just behind Maniklal stood a young man who worked for Maniklal but had a detached look on his face. His father once owned a shop on that street, until Maniklal had come on the scene with products which were cheaper and better. Maniklal had put the young man’s father out of business with his superior negotiating and sourcing skills. For the young man this protest seemed to bring the memories of his father who had perished in the new wave of those days.

The rally of protesters had reached a new building down that street which housed a super market and just then a small commotion ensued amongst some retailers in the group. The super market had affected many of the retailers but it had failed to be failed to deliver complete value for all class of customers that the protesting retailers served. It was nevertheless a new wave and profit of many of the traditional retailers had seen a dip as customers embraced new standards of goods and goodies that the supermarket offered.

The rally suddenly lost its enthusiasm as the press cameras started to move away towards a press conference called by the minister to explain the rationale behind the FDI decision. Now the entire media mela had shifted to a sprawling ministerial bungalow. Sipping their hot beverages the media crew focused their cameras on the practiced statement of the minister, who explained that the FDI in retail is only an inevitable progress in the policy of liberalization. The press conference reached the crescendo with the minister declaring that this decision was one more step that the government had taken against inflation!

As all these happened, in a nearby APMC yard a farmer sat on a pile of onions stacked up in gunny bags. He had brought his produce with a hope of getting a decent rate for his effort but it seemed like even his transport cost wouldn’t be recovered that day. The onion prices in the local market near his village had crashed and the local merchants had started to play a waiting game to bring down the prices further. The farmer wanted to break the monopoly of these local merchants by accessing the tertiary market, but his ego and confidence had just got buried under the pile of onions he sat on. There were 100 more farmers like him there and the merchants there were worse than their counter parts near his village.

Just as he had decided to leave his produce to rot in the yard along with his confidence, a group of eternally protesting ‘facsimile farmers’ were going on yet another protest against the FDI in retail. The onion farmer didn’t know what the protest meant for him. He didn’t know that a FDI in retail means a chance of bringing an alternative to the local merchants but he was told that it means that he will have to compete with a farmer in Brazil to sell his onions. He was told stories of a demon retailer personified as Walmart which gobbles up every poor man in its way. His frustration had just found a channel, he joined them in protest.

In midst of all the loud protests a house wife had walked out of a supermarket with a paltry of purchase and had walked straight to a kirana store just beside the supermarket for more shopping. She wasn’t worried about Manikchand lal, who had also once come as an alternative and was now fighting against a new alternative. She wasn’t mesmerized by the decked up supermarket. She unfortunately did not see the farmers who had been betrayed by the skewed market forces. At the end of the day, her basket was filled with an eye on her purse. At her convenience she would chose between the neighborhood kirana store and the super market with a balanced detachment. If the foreign retailer is allowed to set shop, she will treat him/ her with the same disdain and it is she who will decide who survives. In the mean time her daughter is teaching her the use of the virtual world of internet and convenience of taking her basket to the virtual world. Who will fit her basket is her choosing!