‘Bhenchod! This shutter gets stuck only at the time of bohni!’ grunted Chandan, trying to roll up the shutter of his shop, ‘and this Raju is of no use as well. I’ve been continuously telling him to get it repaired! Madarchod, all he wants is to smoke beedis, that’s all!’

Even at the age of sixty, Chandan had never been a minute late than six o’ clock in the morning to open his shop of medical supplies in Nauroji Nagar market. Opening the shop earlier than everyone provided him an extra edge over the other chemists near Safdarjung hospital or even the ones in front of AIIMS. Doctors at both the hospitals were aware of Chandan’s routine of opening his shop earlier than usual, therefore most of the midnight patients were told to buy medicines from his shop. Continue reading →