The +1 person.

There was a small crowd looming around the roadside stall vendor who was selling momos, a steamed fare made from white flour and chicken or vegetable fillings inside. He had split containers placed over each other growing out like bamboo stems. Inside, the fumes generating from the boiling water in the lowest container filtered upwards through holes, enveloping pieces of momos inside with hot steam to give that soft cooked flavour to the grated chicken enclosed inside the round white flour casing. Each container contained only one type of momos, i.e, one container would contain only vegetarian momos and another container would contain only non-vegetarian momos. The vendor deftly juggled the containers changing their ascendancy so as to steam up those momos for which demand was more.

The vendor would charge thirty rupees for ten pieces of non-veg momos and twenty rupees for ten pieces of veg momos. I awaited my serving of non-vegetarian momos. Initially I requested only half a plate, which meant that I was supposed to receive five. After voraciously consuming those five pieces, I thrust my palm with the empty thin cardboard paper plate gesturing for another serving of five more momos. The vendor carefully counted till five, with each count grabbing a piece with his tongs and dropping those on my plate.

At the fifth drop, his hand deliberated a little over the containers, with the steam wildly escaping into thin air as the container was opened for serving. My hand hesitated wondering if the serving was over or if there is more to come. The next moment, the vendor placed the sixth piece on my plate. Slightly pleased I asked, “Why an extra piece”? He replied that asking for a second serving of a half-plate earns the consumer an extra piece. “But each plate is to be served with only ten pieces. Right?” I questioned his answer. “Kabhi Kabhi” pat came his reply with a nodding wink of his eye.

Several strangers, some unique come visiting several roadside stalls serving Indian street food, everyday. The vendor faces the +1 person almost each time. Some want +1 because they have been a loyal customer to a vendor. Some want it because they have not been satisfied with the vendor’s “service.” Some want it because they being a person in a position of authority, deserve it by way of respect. Some get it from the vendor as the vendor’s mark of respect, or by his business acumen or by cunning or by culinary entrapment?

Gol Gappeys used to come a lot more in number per plate for five rupees a while ago than they come now. Does the +1 person exist as a neanderthal of those earlier times which were untouched by sea waves of rising costs? Or does the +1 person exists because of a certain way the Indian mentality works? Do Indians still hold something dear to relations between each other than mere “efficiency driven business commercialism”? Is the + 1 habit a way of establishing personal relations between Individuals that is not spoiled by blatant consumerism; not by how much you pay is how much you get but by virtues of the strength of human relationship between two persons; the vendor and the consumer. A feeling that says, “its ohkay if you consume more, because you have been supporting me by purchasing at my shop” which is reciprocated mutually by another feeling which says that “You should serve me +1 since that will decide if I come to your shop next.”

A subtle understanding! A symbiotic feeling. The recipe for future.