It is the same old scene at Sam Zachariah’s shop. The office-goer stops by on his way home to buy a copy of Manorama, eager as he is to know what is happening in his home-state Kerala. This is then followed by a discussion of the politics prevailing there. The lady of the house drops in for her weekly purchases. The family cannot do without the ethnic delicacies available here, though the culture itself may be alien to them. A harried householder is looking for someone to put up a grill-casing in his balcony, and so makes his way to the shop.
Sam is what the Malayalis call a karnavar. It is an indulgent sobriquet for a man who has a finger in every pie or a man who knows everybody’s business! Sam is a second-generation Pune citizen, his father having migrated here in 1944 to join the defence services. Sam, an airforce employee, retired in 1981. “In those days, work meant a means to support an ailing wife and bringing up two young kids. Later, when the children settled and I retired, there was the need to keep myself busy. It was on the suggestion of two friends that the idea of setting up a shop was born,” recalls Sam.
He claims that shops catering exclusively to Malayalis are few, and no matter what, Keralites cannot do without their typical food stuffs. So, his little shop in the Camp area stocks papadams, pickles, banana and tapioca chips, rose cookies, coffee powder, fish, a variety of condiments and masalas. He also stocks Malayalam magazines and newspapers, as not only are Malayalis avid readers but also need their daily dose of political happenings. “People come here from Hadapsar, Lohegaon and the city for their regular purchases,” says Sam. He addresses everyone by name and knows what is happening in their lives.
They always have time to talk to him. Adds Sam, “I have been here so long and there are so many people I know that when it comes to helping others or asking for help, there is always someone.” Indeed, Sam has something by way of help for school admissions, jobs or matrimonial alliances.
Setting up the shop was no easy task for someone who had no idea about business. “I was clueless about how the weights and measures worked. It was my son who taught me these elementary skills. The people around here are also very friendly and always willing to lend a hand,” he says. Managing a shop, however small, is no mean task. Sam co-ordinates with his Malayali counterpart in Chengannoor to secure bi-weekly supplies that comes by train. He has to manage the loading and transport all by himself and this happens to be the exerting part of the whole work. The consolation at the end of it all are fresh supplies and happy customers.
Sam is not only fluent in Marathi but is also a smooth-talker. He has managed to convert curious onlookers into regular customers. He extols the tastes of the food stuff, explains how they are prepared and persuades the customer to try them out. There are also Tamilians, Goans and Kannadigas who frequent the shop. “I am not motivated by money, I just want to share my goodwill and experience with people. I can go out of my way to help people,” says the philanthropist. He continues, “I never thought I would set up a shop like this. It is the energy and willingness to work hard that has kept me going”.