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| by Julie Nasmith |
Jaipur's old city is contained within coral-pink painted
crenellated walls.
Unlike most cities in India, it was carefully
planned and designed by the founder and first maharajah of Jaipur, Sawai
Jai Singh. The north-south streets are broad boulevards with
shops on either side and a raised median in the centre. 
The streets are a
mad blur of every type of vehicle darting around casually oblivious
livestock. The city is divided into bazaars that tend to contain goods of
similar type. One would go to Johari Bazaar for jewellery, to Nehru or
Bapu Bazaar for dry goods and to Tripolia Bazaar for pots and
pans.
My friend Jill and I had gone to Nehru Bazaar in search of a
towel. After walking past several shops specializing in sheets and quilts,
we came to a likely shop.
Several towels were presented for my
inspection and I selected a light pink one with a potentially absorbent texture. Then I noticed a large dirty area where it had been folded. "Oh,
but it's dirty" I said, "Is there another clean one, same kind?" The older
man serving us directed his younger subordinate to search the shelves
behind him. After much shuffling and opening of boxes, another towel of
the same type was located. I looked it over, only to find to my
disappointment that it was dirtier than the first one, which I pointed
out. "Too bad" I said. "I really like this one."
He pondered the
situation for a moment and then with a flourish, flipped the towel over to
reveal its reverse side. "Backside fresh madam" he announced proudly. Who
could argue with logic like that? I purchased the towel without further
negotiations.
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