Cheap and Shady

Cheap and Shady

(A Story)

The village was called Ramnagar. Neither very big nor very small. An old river flowed along its banks, and its name was Sursati. On this side of the river lay the fields, green and full, and on the other side stood the market, which people called the Bara Bazaar, though it could hardly have held fifty or sixty shops. But for the villagers, this market was their whole world. It was here that grain was bought, here that cloth was bought, here that salt and oil were bought, and here that the daily vegetables were bought.

In the very middle of this market stood a large and old shop, Lala Rameshwardas and Sons, Vegetable and Grain Store. This shop had been running for three generations. Lala Rameshwardas's grandfather had laid its foundation, his father had expanded it, and now Lala Rameshwardas himself looked after it. His son Manohar had also grown into a young man by now and had begun lending a hand in the shop's affairs.

Lala Rameshwardas was a man of about sixty. Grey had begun to show in his beard, but his eyes still carried the same gleam that marks a skilled trader. He was rich in accounts and ledgers, but just as generous in heart. In the village he was held in great respect, and this respect was not only because of his money.