This happened a few weeks back.
It was a Sunday.
I was at the chicken shop.
It was a bit crowded and I was awaiting my turn to select a hen.
The person in front of me had selected his hen. The hen-picker, Mr Mulla, weighed it and proceeded to tag it with a number. The number on the small plastic token was not clearly printed. He showed it to the customer and asked "what is this? Is it 39?". The customer looked at the token closely. I, being my usual inquisitive self, peeked over the customer's shoulder to look at the number. It was definitely 39.
Mulla hollered the number and the weight of the hen to the cashier-cum-owner, who promptly wrote out a bill to the customer with the token number mentioned on it.
I went through the same process, paid for my chicken, collected the bill and moved out to buy some other food-stuff. Most people do the same since it takes some time before the chicken is ready to be cut.
The hen, once tagged is passed at the back of the shop to be killed and cleaned up. After killing the hen and removing its skin, feathers and innards, the body is passed on with the tagged number to the butcher at the front. The butcher calls out the number, cuts up the chicken and hands it over to the customer.
After a while I returned to the chicken shop and awaited my number to be called out. The man who had been in front of me, the one whose number was 39, was waiting too.
After a while Mr 39 approaches the butcher and asks "O Bhai, 39 aaya kya zara dekho na?" ("Please see if No 39 has come or not?")
Butcher asked the person at the back who cleans the chicken: "Aye Paatill, 39 hai kya dekh zara? Zara jaldi mein bhej de" ("Patil, see if 39 number chicken is there? Process it first...") and then back to the customer he says "Aaa jayega" ("wait a while, it will come")
Mr 39 retreated to wait further.
After a while, 39 number had not yet come. So Mr 39 approached the owner of the shop.
Mr 39: "Are bhai, ye mera 39 number chicken abhi tak nahi aaya. Maine do baar poocha. Zara dekhne ko bolo..." ("I asked the butcher 2 times, yet my chicken No. 39 has not yet come to him. Please check")
Owner, in a gruff authoritative voice: "Aye Paatil, Salim, zara dekh 39 number kidhar hai? Dekh zara, jaldi bhej..." (Patil, Salim, see where is No. 39... find it and send it quickly)
Boss is after all boss.
At the owner's command, both the butcher and the cleaner began inspecting the numbers of the chickens which were ready to be cut...
Butcher says: "22... 35... 16... 19... Kya number bola? 19??" ("22... 35... 16... 19... What was the number - 19??)
Customer: "No no... its 39..."
Butcher checks again and then says: "39 nahi 19 hoga" (May be its not 39. its probably 19)
Customer: "Nahi maine to check kiya..." ("No no, I had checked...")
Butcher, without listening to the customer: "Aap ka 19 hi hoga. Woh Mulla paagal hai. Use dikhai nahi deta..." (It must be 19. That Mulla, he doesn't see properly...)
And then to the owner he says: "Oh maalik, ye 39 wale ko 19 de raha hoon..." (disclaimer to the owner: "boss am giving 19 number chicken to no. 39")
I looked at the the owner. He sat there looking ahead with no expression on his face. I knew he had heard it. But his face said "No Comments".
The poor fellow Mr 39... All he managed to blurt was a few "buts" which went unheard and/or unheeded. The butcher cut up the No. 19 chicken and handed it over to Mr. 39. He accepted it meekly and went away. After all, who could blame him? It was obvious that No. 39 chicken was lost or misplaced or given away to someone else. There was no point wasting time in searching for it or getting another chicken which weighed almost the same.
My chicken had not yet arrived at the butcher's table.
After a while, another guy walks in, shows his bill to the butcher and asks "Mera 19 number aaya kya re?" (Please check if my no. 19 chicken has come or not?)
The butcher looks at the owner and says: "Saab, unnis number aa gaya..." ("Boss No. 19 customer has arrived")
The butcher waits for an answer. All he gets is a stern "No Comments" expression from the owner.
The customer sees this silent exchange between boss and butcher and jokingly asks "Kya hua? Mera chicken kahi udd to nahi gaya??" (What happened? Did my chicken fly away or what?)
The cleaning guy at the back calls out: "Are nahi, uska to parr nikal diya tha, udega kaise... chal ke gaya rahe ga" (No no, I had removed its feathers, couldn't have flown... must have walked out instead...)
The men at the back laugh. The butcher tries to hide his smile.
The owner steps in (finally) and says: "Are nahi, aaj zara gardi hai... aa jayega..." (No no, its a bit crowded today... wait a while, it will come...)
Instead of waiting the man walked out.
My chicken came, I got it cut and as I was about to walk out, the butcher called out... "Number 39..."
He says to the owner, "Saab, Number 39..."
The butcher holds up the No. 39 chicken and looks at the owner.
All he gets as an answer is a stern "No Comments" expression...
It was a Sunday.
I was at the chicken shop.
It was a bit crowded and I was awaiting my turn to select a hen.
The person in front of me had selected his hen. The hen-picker, Mr Mulla, weighed it and proceeded to tag it with a number. The number on the small plastic token was not clearly printed. He showed it to the customer and asked "what is this? Is it 39?". The customer looked at the token closely. I, being my usual inquisitive self, peeked over the customer's shoulder to look at the number. It was definitely 39.
Mulla hollered the number and the weight of the hen to the cashier-cum-owner, who promptly wrote out a bill to the customer with the token number mentioned on it.
I went through the same process, paid for my chicken, collected the bill and moved out to buy some other food-stuff. Most people do the same since it takes some time before the chicken is ready to be cut.
The hen, once tagged is passed at the back of the shop to be killed and cleaned up. After killing the hen and removing its skin, feathers and innards, the body is passed on with the tagged number to the butcher at the front. The butcher calls out the number, cuts up the chicken and hands it over to the customer.
After a while I returned to the chicken shop and awaited my number to be called out. The man who had been in front of me, the one whose number was 39, was waiting too.
After a while Mr 39 approaches the butcher and asks "O Bhai, 39 aaya kya zara dekho na?" ("Please see if No 39 has come or not?")
Butcher asked the person at the back who cleans the chicken: "Aye Paatill, 39 hai kya dekh zara? Zara jaldi mein bhej de" ("Patil, see if 39 number chicken is there? Process it first...") and then back to the customer he says "Aaa jayega" ("wait a while, it will come")
Mr 39 retreated to wait further.
After a while, 39 number had not yet come. So Mr 39 approached the owner of the shop.
Mr 39: "Are bhai, ye mera 39 number chicken abhi tak nahi aaya. Maine do baar poocha. Zara dekhne ko bolo..." ("I asked the butcher 2 times, yet my chicken No. 39 has not yet come to him. Please check")
Owner, in a gruff authoritative voice: "Aye Paatil, Salim, zara dekh 39 number kidhar hai? Dekh zara, jaldi bhej..." (Patil, Salim, see where is No. 39... find it and send it quickly)
Boss is after all boss.
At the owner's command, both the butcher and the cleaner began inspecting the numbers of the chickens which were ready to be cut...
Butcher says: "22... 35... 16... 19... Kya number bola? 19??" ("22... 35... 16... 19... What was the number - 19??)
Customer: "No no... its 39..."
Butcher checks again and then says: "39 nahi 19 hoga" (May be its not 39. its probably 19)
Customer: "Nahi maine to check kiya..." ("No no, I had checked...")
Butcher, without listening to the customer: "Aap ka 19 hi hoga. Woh Mulla paagal hai. Use dikhai nahi deta..." (It must be 19. That Mulla, he doesn't see properly...)
And then to the owner he says: "Oh maalik, ye 39 wale ko 19 de raha hoon..." (disclaimer to the owner: "boss am giving 19 number chicken to no. 39")
I looked at the the owner. He sat there looking ahead with no expression on his face. I knew he had heard it. But his face said "No Comments".
The poor fellow Mr 39... All he managed to blurt was a few "buts" which went unheard and/or unheeded. The butcher cut up the No. 19 chicken and handed it over to Mr. 39. He accepted it meekly and went away. After all, who could blame him? It was obvious that No. 39 chicken was lost or misplaced or given away to someone else. There was no point wasting time in searching for it or getting another chicken which weighed almost the same.
My chicken had not yet arrived at the butcher's table.
After a while, another guy walks in, shows his bill to the butcher and asks "Mera 19 number aaya kya re?" (Please check if my no. 19 chicken has come or not?)
The butcher looks at the owner and says: "Saab, unnis number aa gaya..." ("Boss No. 19 customer has arrived")
The butcher waits for an answer. All he gets is a stern "No Comments" expression from the owner.
The customer sees this silent exchange between boss and butcher and jokingly asks "Kya hua? Mera chicken kahi udd to nahi gaya??" (What happened? Did my chicken fly away or what?)
The cleaning guy at the back calls out: "Are nahi, uska to parr nikal diya tha, udega kaise... chal ke gaya rahe ga" (No no, I had removed its feathers, couldn't have flown... must have walked out instead...)
The men at the back laugh. The butcher tries to hide his smile.
The owner steps in (finally) and says: "Are nahi, aaj zara gardi hai... aa jayega..." (No no, its a bit crowded today... wait a while, it will come...)
Instead of waiting the man walked out.
My chicken came, I got it cut and as I was about to walk out, the butcher called out... "Number 39..."
He says to the owner, "Saab, Number 39..."
The butcher holds up the No. 39 chicken and looks at the owner.
All he gets as an answer is a stern "No Comments" expression...
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