Echoed Promises

"Bhaiya, ullu na banao. Daily aapse hi khareedti hoon..."
("Don't fool me, brother. I buy from you every day.")
Mrinal said with an annoyed scowl as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to keep her bag from slipping off her shoulder.

The vegetable vendor looked up from arranging his carrots and gave a half-smile, scratching his head.
"Aree didi, kya baat karti ho! Aaj hi to dusri mandi se yaha shift hue hain... thodi to lajja khao."
("Oh sister, what are you saying? I just shifted here from another market today... have some shame.")

Mrinal rolled her eyes and crossed her arms tightly, her tone turning sharp.
"Lajja nahi, tamatar khaungi main. 40 ka lagate ho to theek, warna rehne do."
("No shame. I'll buy tomatoes-only if you give them for 40. Otherwise, forget it.")

The vendor gave a frustrated chuckle, trying to keep the deal alive.
"Accha thike, 45 de dijiye... ab khush?"
("Okay fine, give 45... happy now?")
He smiled nervously, assuming she would budge.

But Mrinal's face hardened. She raised her eyebrows and said,
"40. Na ek upar, na neeche."
("40. Not a rupee more, not a rupee less.")

The vendor sighed in defeat and started packing.
"Accha thike, le jaiye..."
("Alright fine, take them...")

On the Other Hand...

"Sir, 950 rupees," the sales assistant said, handing Tej his sleek, eco-friendly shopping bag filled with polished vegetables at Nature's Basket.

"OK... I will pay online," Tej replied with a nod, tapping on his phone as he turned toward the escalator.

Descending with poise, he stepped into the parking lot, unlocked his luxury sedan, and gently placed the bag in the passenger seat. Adjusting his sunglasses, he slid into the driver's seat, started the engine, and leaned back as the air conditioning cooled his face.

Five minutes later - CRASH!

A sudden jolt rocked the car. A screech of brakes. He shot forward in his seat.

He looked up - a scooty had collided with the front bumper.
And off it tumbled - poly bags strewn, tomatoes rolling like marbles, onions bouncing away.

And standing in front, raging with fury - Mrinal.

Her eyes blazed, her hands clenched into fists. Tej gulped visibly, taken aback by her fury. Mrinal, fuming, parked her scooty roughly to the side and stormed toward him.

She knocked on his window, hard.
"Kholiye!"
("Open up!")

Tej, frozen, blinked and then rolled the window down silently.

"Bahar aaiye."
("Get out.")
Mrinal ordered, jaw tight.

Without a word, Tej stepped out of the car, straightening his shirt.

"Dekho-" he started, his hand raised slightly, trying to defuse the situation.

But she cut in immediately.
"Pehle main bolungi."
("I'll speak first.")
Her voice sliced the air like a blade.

"Bhaang pike gaadi chalate h kya? Ya apni badi si gaadi ke aage sabko keeda makoda samajhte h? Abhi marr jaati main... phirrr... meri mummy ki beti banke pahunch jaate aap unke paas!"
("Are you driving after drinking bhang or do you think everyone in front of your big car is an insect? I could've died just now... zoom... you would've gone to my mother as her daughter!")

Each word hit harder, her volume rising, hands gesturing wildly as her earrings jangled with every head shake.

"Dekho, ye galti se hua... sabzi hi to hai, phir se khareed lo. Don't overreact."
("Look, it happened by mistake... it's just vegetables, buy them again. Don't overreact.")
Tej said calmly, but his tone held firmness.