Spices & Herbs

People usually find us because of the smell before they actually see the shop name. We are tucked away in the Bg-8 Market in Paschim Vihar, right near the White House. It’s a busy little corner. I spend most of my mornings opening up heavy sacks of cardamom and cinnamon. The dust from the ground spices gets everywhere, even on my glasses. We started this place because we knew where to get the good stuff from the wholesalers. It isn't a fancy showroom with glass cases. It is just rows and rows of plastic jars and steel bins filled with whatever people need for their daily cooking. Some days it is quiet and I just sit on the stool out front, watching the traffic go by toward the main road. Other days, like before festivals, it is a madhouse. Everyone wants their garam masala at the same time. We try to keep things organized but sometimes labels fall off or we get the orders mixed up in the rush. My hands usually smell like cloves even after I go home and wash them twice. It is hard work, lifting the heavy bags and measuring out tiny portions for people who only want ten rupees worth of saffron. But we have been here a long time and the locals know us. They don't mind the cramped space or the fact that there’s no air conditioning. It is just how things are here in this market.