Bazar Bhromon by Edited By Samran Huda, Sumeru Mukhopadhyay [Hardcover]

Among the favorite phrases of Bengalis, "Bazar-Haat" holds a special place. For a people who believe that the best home for desire is the palate, it is only natural that they would run to the market for their favorite foods. Despite often being mentioned together, "Haat" (market fair) and "Bazar" (market) are distinct. After careful consideration, Job Charnock planted the roots of Kolkata, attracted by the thread market of Sutanuti, the large market of Kolkata, and the rice market of Govindpur. Kalyani Dutta's French aunt would say that her uncle mentioned there were only three shopping places for gentlemen in Kolkata: Armin's, Laddie's, and Anderson's stores. And her entire Chandan Nagar was a vibrant market, ready for spending money. The market is a householder's dream. In search of lost memories, the householder roams the entire market on foot. The market is fire. It burns his feet. But is the market just an economic entity? The colorful frock of that elusive girl from the pigeonhole flat, symbolic of seasonal changes, adorns our market trips.

And then come memories. The memories of our communal life, returning again and again to the market. Certain items remind one of old, lost people. Like the market of Barunhat, or the stories of Hulome's market that vanish without a trace. At the end of the day, when buying and selling is done, the remnants of the market remain: broken baskets, discarded vegetables, and returning people.

In 1861, Hutum wrote about the broken market of the rajas in Sobhabazar. How the fish sellers, holding lamps, entice buyers with lines like "Want some good fish, Gamcha Kande?" and "Give me four annas, Minse Khengra-gupo"—sometimes teasing the sellers for a laugh. A hundred and thirty-six years later, Shyamal Gangopadhyay wrote about Birja Mahanti during his market visits. In Behala's new market, Mrs. Birja, while managing her customers for cut fish, discusses their personal problems. She advises them, "Don't buy fish oil today, sir. Let the monsoon come. I'll select the oil for you."

The market has already undergone a paradigm shift. Women’s role is no longer just 'fish sellers with lamps'; a significant portion of market buyers are now women. Beyond Hutum and Shyamal, this collection contains proof from women writers. Now, from the vanity bag of office-goers, emerges the market bag, containing all household necessities. Not just that, anything they crave to eat. As they don’t have time to chop at home, these superwomen get pre-cut vegetables, colocasia leaves, and banana flowers from the market. For a long time, housewives' parallel economy existed in a unique barter system—old sarees for utensils or new sarees. The male heads of households were often oblivious. But surely, the market economy’s contribution from women will start academic discussions once this travelogue concludes.