Mohan Prasad Rassi Store

Opening up Shop No. 1 early is just how it goes here near Station Chowk. The morning train hasn’t even come in yet, but the shutters are already rolled up. It’s mostly just me and the ropes. People call it Mohan Prasad Rassi Store, but to me, it’s just where I spend my days. The air near Sikandarpur Road gets dusty quite fast. I usually start by moving the thicker jute coils toward the front so people can see them from the street. They are heavy and leave little fibers all over my shirt. My hands are usually a bit rough by lunch time from handling the nylon ones. It’s not a big space, but every corner is packed with something. Sometimes the tea guy from across the road brings over a glass, and we just watch the traffic pile up at the crossing. It’s loud because of the station nearby. You can hear the announcements if the wind is blowing the right way. I keep a stool by the door to sit on when things are quiet. The shelves are old wood, a bit warped now from the humidity we get here. I don’t mind it much. By evening, the station crowd gets thicker and everyone is in a hurry to get home. I just keep track of what’s left and make sure the door locks right before heading out. It’s simple work, really. Just ropes and the daily noise of the chowk.