Chasing mall brats

For the average Dilliwallah or the stunned out-of-towner, for whom a trip to the malls is now mandatory, leaving his matchbox apartment in search of recreation, the malls offer an irresistible deal: Entertainment at his price gawking, which costs nothing, or shopping, which could cost a lot.

Yet, after a couple of visits, the towering walls could inspire less awe and more questions. As it happened with PR guru Dilip Cherian. 8216;8216;No one8217;s actually thought about playing with the space. Maybe we need to see more of India and its craft in these malls. Gimmicks like a pushcart with gewgaws, a couple of tarot card-readers, some live entertainment acts could work wonders. Right now, one smells the fresh paint, sees the clean banisters and spotless marble flooring and wonders 8212; will it remain this way forever?8217;8217;

fad footfalls

FOR the moment, though, Cherian is in a minority. Or maybe Delhi and the still-new suburb of Gurgaon are enough of a catchment area to keep the first-timer supply intact. The numbers certainly point that way. Each shop in the three major malls 8212; DLF City Centre, Metropolitan Mall and Sahara Mall 8212; claims to get 9,000 footfalls every weekend. That8217;s 9,000 people checking out displays, salivating over imported brands, trying out garments and accessories 8212; and while they are at it, stocking up on groceries for the week.

Says a resigned Shailendra Nath of Lifestyle, at City Centre, 8216;8216;Right now most people are coming here for the experience. Shopping will start three or four visits later.8217;8217;

In the meantime, customer service is impeccable, with never a frown even at a customer who insists on taking three pairs of jeans and five tops into the changing room. At Crossroads, the basement supermarket at City Centre, the sales assistants will politely look the other way as you stare at the cars swooshing away just beyond the glass walls, but inside the building.

Before the buzz, there were the timepassers. So they still merit top-class service, full attention and ample space.

hangers-on welcome

Progressing from the DT Cinema ticket counter towards Subway, you8217;ll notice a bunch of nattily dressed young men doing what nattily dressed young men do all over the world, ogling. They belong, probably even more than Mr Moneybags from Mayur Vihar. The DT authorities has even put up a tiny television outside the cinema for their exclusive viewing pleasure.

There8217;s a similar crowd at the Barista outlet inside City Centre. Romance doesn8217;t bloom at the bus-stops anymore, never mind Jhankar Beats. It happens at shopping malls now, over cold coffee and croissants.

At the Metropolitan Mall, peals of laughter welcome you in. Two boys, aged five and six, have decided they8217;ve had enough of the playpen. They line up their GI Joes and dinky cars on the escalators and clap with joy as the toys move gracefully to a higher floor. When one of the cars falls inside the slot, the crowd that8217;s gathered below shudders momentarily, and then breaks up.

The floor guards are more or less resigned to the fact that the escalators are one of the major attractions of the malls. A guard at City Centre recalls, 8216;8216;Recently, some kids were creating havoc, running up and down the escalator, shrieking and screaming. The manager had to beg them with folded hands to stop.8217;8217;

sales spiel

EVERYONE8217;S happy. Pappaji, because a trip to the mall entails an outlay of only Rs 15 the parking fee, which is reimbursed on purchase, Mummyji, because of the infinite possibilities of spending money, Bunty, because of the girls, and Soni, because of the boys. The storeowners, because every walk-in represents a possible buyer, justification for the average Rs 3 lakh paid in rent every month. Around 30 per cent of the visitors 8212; 9,000 on weekends, 3,000 on weekdays 8212; are actual spend-money shoppers.

At the Sahara mall, Big Bazaar, with its cut-price VFM deals, is a big draw. 8216;8216;We get people in 800s, Zens and scooters,8217;8217; boasts Sameer Mathur of Big Bazaar. 8216;8216;That8217;s why even our catchline Isse sasta aur achha kahin nahin is in Hindi.8217;8217;

At the Qwiky8217;s outlet at City Centre, sales executives have a hard time holding on to their beanbags. 8216;8216;Some customers like them so much they want to take them home,8217;8217; sighs one. 8216;8216;It8217;s quite difficult convincing them these are not for sale.8217;8217;

Of course, the beanbags are an exception. Almost everything, is for sale at these malls. Including hipness at Rs 15 only.