“Gal Siyambala rupiyal dahayayi ganna” (literally buy a bag of Gal Siyambala) It’s a shrill call and I turn to spot a plastic weather beaten basin carrying several bags of ‘Gal Siyambala’ tucked in circular motion, and there’s another like that as well. Two pairs of twinkling eyes meet mine. I take a closer look at the two salesmen in front of me, clutching on to the basins. Inspite of their Rs.10 quote going in repetitive chants, I ask “keeyada?” (how much?) pat comes the answer “mallak dahayayi” (a bag is 10).
Those eyes did the damage, they tugged so hard at my heart. I had to please both. The twenty Rupee note I give them is to be split between both of them I tell them. Two bags of Gal Siyambala are quickly shoved in to my hands. I can’t help but pat their heads.
I walk ahead to see the historical Yudaganawa temple. From a distance it looks like an upturned chocolate egg nestled between gigantic Teak, Koang, Woodapple, Tamarind trees. The splendor of the placid environment was obvious to pronounce the era when life ran at snail’s pace. Nibbling on the Gal Siyambala I enjoy walking getting a glimpse on either side, watching groups of chattering monkeys swinging frantically from one branch to another, some sitting around as if in serious discussion.
On my way out, I watch the 2 salesmen on an aggressive marketing drive, enticing potential customers with their packs. Both their mothers were running their own mini sales outlets that had woodapple, herbal tea and water melons. I watched how they shuttled in between their mothers’ outlets handing over the sales revenue when their pockets couldn’t hold the coins and notes any more. I can’t help but walk towards them once more only to find them running towards me once more…letting out a shrill call “ganna bag ekak vissai” (take a bag for 20 )This time oops there is a rise in price and I ask them teasingly “dahayay evata mokada vunay?” (what happened to the packs for 10?). Two rows of squirrel sized teeth pop out through wide grinned faces. “Aeva ivarai” (Those are gone). Grinning I get one more bag which was quite a lot and tell them to share the Twenty Rupees between them. The fragrance of boiling Beli mal is too tempting to resist I decide to wash off the pungent acidic flavor which the gal siyambala berry had left on my palate with a nice cup of Beli mal. Under the shade of a humongous Teak tree, sipping piping hot Beli Mal accompanied by juggery, I continue to observe the salesmen who are running after 2 big busses carrying a group of pilgrims who had stopped for refreshments.
Curious, I walk to the outlet run by one of the salesman’s mothers, to observe her marketing drive. A pleasant ebony skinned woman greets me. She tells me that the both the 9 year old salesmen are on school vacation right now. I listen to her ranting and go back for another cup of Beli mal, The woman at the outlet, is quick to sense my liking and asks if I need a second serving, for which she does not charge. I am flattered at her generosity.
As I walk around watching the entire area filled with mini outlets, I suddenly spot a cycling woman waving at me, It’s the mother of one of the salesman, Her day is done and she is heading home. One of the salesman seemed to enjoy running behind the bicycle while his business buddy stays back to help his mother at the Beli mal tea outlet. Maybe he has more entrepreneurial lessons to take from his mother ?
“Gal Siyambala rupiyal dahayayi ganna” (literally buy a bag of Gal Siyambala) It’s a shrill call and I turn to spot a plastic weather beaten basin carrying several bags of ‘Gal Siyambala’ tucked in circular motion, and there’s another like that as well. Two pairs of twinkling eyes meet mine. I take a closer look at the two salesmen in front of me, clutching on to the basins. Inspite of their Rs.10 quote going in repetitive chants, I ask “keeyada?” (how much?) pat comes the answer “mallak dahayayi” (a bag is 10).
Those eyes did the damage, they tugged so hard at my heart. I had to please both. The twenty Rupee note I give them is to be split between both of them I tell them. Two bags of Gal Siyambala are quickly shoved in to my hands. I can’t help but pat their heads.
I walk ahead to see the historical Yudaganawa temple. From a distance it looks like an upturned chocolate egg nestled between gigantic Teak, Koang, Woodapple, Tamarind trees. The splendor of the placid environment was obvious to pronounce the era when life ran at snail’s pace. Nibbling on the Gal Siyambala I enjoy walking getting a glimpse on either side, watching groups of chattering monkeys swinging frantically from one branch to another, some sitting around as if in serious discussion.
On my way out, I watch the 2 salesmen on an aggressive marketing drive, enticing potential customers with their packs. Both their mothers were running their own mini sales outlets that had woodapple, herbal tea and water melons. I watched how they shuttled in between their mothers’ outlets handing over the sales revenue when their pockets couldn’t hold the coins and notes any more. I can’t help but walk towards them once more only to find them running towards me once more…letting out a shrill call “ganna bag ekak vissai” (take a bag for 20 )This time oops there is a rise in price and I ask them teasingly “dahayay evata mokada vunay?” (what happened to the packs for 10?). Two rows of squirrel sized teeth pop out through wide grinned faces. “Aeva ivarai” (Those are gone). Grinning I get one more bag which was quite a lot and tell them to share the Twenty Rupees between them. The fragrance of boiling Beli mal is too tempting to resist I decide to wash off the pungent acidic flavor which the gal siyambala berry had left on my palate with a nice cup of Beli mal. Under the shade of a humongous Teak tree, sipping piping hot Beli Mal accompanied by juggery, I continue to observe the salesmen who are running after 2 big busses carrying a group of pilgrims who had stopped for refreshments.
Curious, I walk to the outlet run by one of the salesman’s mothers, to observe her marketing drive. A pleasant ebony skinned woman greets me. She tells me that the both the 9 year old salesmen are on school vacation right now. I listen to her ranting and go back for another cup of Beli mal, The woman at the outlet, is quick to sense my liking and asks if I need a second serving, for which she does not charge. I am flattered at her generosity.
As I walk around watching the entire area filled with mini outlets, I suddenly spot a cycling woman waving at me, It’s the mother of one of the salesman, Her day is done and she is heading home. One of the salesman seemed to enjoy running behind the bicycle while his business buddy stays back to help his mother at the Beli mal tea outlet. Maybe he has more entrepreneurial lessons to take from his mother ?
