Kalu Pan Shop

Living and working in Dharavi means you’re always surrounded by people and noise. My shop, which everyone just calls Kalu Pan Shop, is right in the middle of it all. It’s just a small nook between two bigger buildings. I’ve got my jars of sweets and my tobacco tins lined up just the way I like them. Every morning I sweep the front because there’s always trash from the street that blows in. It’s a busy life here. I know most of the people who live in the lane behind me. They stop by to tell me their troubles or just to complain about the weather. I don't say much, I just listen and make their pan. The leaves I get are usually good, but sometimes the market is tight and I have to hunt around for the better stuff. The wooden bench outside is where the old men sit sometimes when they’re tired. I don’t mind them being there as long as they don’t block the entrance. It’s a small living, but it’s mine. I don’t use any fancy machines or anything. Everything is done by hand, the old way. When the sun goes down, the lights in the alley come on and the shop looks a bit different. I stay open late because that’s when the workers come back and want their bidi. It’s a long day, but it’s what I know. I wouldn't know what else to do with my time.