‘The Handicraft Art & Heritage Emporium of India’ was more grandiose in name than in its physical presence. It was a small old cramped brick outhouse that was situated within the compound walls of an equally old decrepit looking bungalow. Sarayu checked to make sure that they had arrived at the correct location. Her Google map said that they had. She texted her grandmother that they had reached their destination and reminded the rest of them to play their roles and got out of the car.

Vael put on his shades and looked around. It was a purely residential area that they had come to. The broad street was lined on both sides with houses and bungalows. The avenue was shaded with leafy trees lining the street. The ubiquitous iron-wallah had his moving ironing stall under the shade of a tree and was doing some ironing. A little distance down, there was a vegetable vendor who had put up his stall and was looking for customers to come to his nearly empty stall that had a few wilted vegetables. On the other side there was another man who was selling tender coconuts from a parked cart. An auto rickshaw, its driver dozing in the backseat, was parked on the corner where the road turned. Vael looked around, taking in the sights and all four of the men followed the new arrivals with watchful eyes.

Vael waited for Sarayu to join him and then entered the outhouse that had the sign board above it.

It took a while for their eyes to adjust to the dark inside. Vael removed his shades and looked at Sarayu questioningly. She just gave slight nod and went deeper inside the store calling out, “Hello”.

A young man in his early thirties came out of the interior of the shop looking surprised that he had buyers to his shop. But as soon as he saw the foreigner, his face brightened and he went straight to him.

“Welcome, Sir”, he said in his pidgin English.

“’Ello mate”, said Vael in an exaggerated Australian accent. “You have a very good collection here”, he said.

The man whose English knowledge stopped with the one word he had just uttered, looked around helplessly. Sarayu stepped in smoothly and translated Vael’s words into Thamizh. “Vanakkam, Sir. He says you have a very good collection of handicraft items. He has come from Australia and someone there had told him that your shop is the one to visit if he needed to buy genuine handcraft items”, she continued in Thamizh.

The man beamed.

“Sir, are you the owner?” Sarayu asked, knowing fully well that he could not be.

“No, no”, said the man. “I’m the assistant, Sunil”, he said.

“Oh, ok”, said Sarayu. “I’m his translator”, she said, careful not to say her name.

Sunil nodded. “What sort of items are you interested in? If you let me know then maybe I can show them to you”, he said.

“It’s up to him. Whatever he likes he’ll buy”, said Sarayu and hastened over to Vael seeing him gesturing to her. She walked over to him.

Vael pointed out a wooden carving and asked the cost of it as none of the items had price tags on them.

Sarayu turned and looked at Sunil who came hurrying over. “How much is this, Sir?” she asked.

“Ten thousand rupees”, said Sunil without batting an eyelid.

Vael almost gasped hearing the price but controlled himself. He did a mental calculation and saw that it came to nearly two hundred Australian dollars. He decided that he could look at a slightly pricier item.

He walked around looking at each object, standing and looking closely at the ones that caught his fancy. He was genuinely astounded to see all the amazing arts and crafts that were on display.

As Sunil’s eyes followed Vael wherever he went, Muthuramalingam entered the shop quietly and looked around. Once his eyes got used to the sudden change in the intensity of light, he saw that his two grandchildren were safe and that his granddaughter’s plan seemed to be working. So he stood the furthest distance from them and pretended to look at the cheap imitations of artefacts put up for sale. He was glad to see that only a young man, who was obviously the assistant, was on duty and the owner of the shop, whoever he was, was nowhere to be seen.

When Sunil saw that another customer had walked in, he went over to the elderly man and asked, “What are you interested in, Sir?”

Muthuramalingam shook his head hurriedly and said, “No, no, I’m just their driver. I came in because it’s too hot outside”.

“Oh!” said Sunil and immediately lost interest in him and went back to where Vael was still looking at a two-foot wooden carving of Krishna playing his flute under a leafy tree leaning on a cow behind him. The statue was intricately carved out of what seemed to be one single block of wood.

“Thirty two thousand rupees”, Sunil told Sarayu. Sarayu went up to Vael and whispered the amount in his ear and Vael immediately did the mental conversion which came to nearly six hundred dollars.

Sarayu turned and asked Sunil, “GST how much?”

“Twelve percent”, answered Sunil. He then hesitated and said, “I can give you without GST bill”.

Sarayu turned and said to Vael, “Sir, he says he can give without GST bill”, and then added in an almost imperceptible voice, “Say no”.

Vael shook his head vigorously and said, “No, no, no. No bill without GST. How can I pay customs and duty if I don’t have a proper invoice? How can I take it through my airport? If that is how this is then I would rather not buy anything here” he said in a loud voice, voicing his displeasure.

Sarayu translated his words and added, “If there is no proper invoice, then we will go to a shop that gives invoice”.

“No, no, Sir, please”, Sunil said looking at Vael’s back which was turned to him as he was still looking at the sculpture. He then turned to Sarayu and said, “I’ll give invoice with GST”.

Sarayu nodded and conveyed the message to Vael.

Vael nodded and said, “Then I’ll take this piece” pointing to the Krishna. “Could you please take care of the formalities?” he said looking at Sarayu. Sarayu nodded and looked at Sunil.

“He said he’ll take this piece. Could you please clean this and pack it up?” she told Sunil.

Sunil nodded enthusiastically and went to the back part of the shop and came out with a carton that could hold the carving. He then proceeded to dust it cursorily and wrapped newspaper around it and placed it inside the carton. He brought a long length of rope and tied it tightly with a loop on top to carry it easily.

“Shall I put it in the car?” he asked Sarayu.

“Yes, please. The driver will help” said Sarayu and pointed at her grandfather who was waiting by the door like a dutiful driver, having seen that the purchase was complete.  

Sunil and Muthuramalingam carried the package and placed it carefully in the trunk of the car. Sunil came back to the shop, while Muthuramalingam stayed by the car, reversing it and turning it around for the journey back.

Sarayu and Vael used the opportunity when Sunil had gone outside to make sure that the shop didn’t have a computer. But they couldn’t see the typewriter either. They looked at each other, worried about how things were turning out. ‘Was this all for nothing?’ thought Sarayu.

“What to do, Sarayu? There’s no typewriter around”, asked Vael frantically.

“It must be here somewhere. Just make a huge hue and cry about wanting a printed invoice and not a written one. If he says only written invoice, then tell him that he can take his statue back. Just be loud and insistent about it. I’ll take care of the rest”, Sarayu said, wondering again if their luck had run out.

As they expected, Sunil came back and took out his invoice book and started writing the bill details on it.

“Wait. Stop. What are you doing?” asked Vael in a loud voice.

Sarayu pretended to turn around in shock.

“What, Sir? What is the problem?” she asked him.

“What is this fellow doing writing the invoice? I need a printed bill. Doesn’t he understand this basic thing? Is this how this shop does business? I don’t understand how this shop was recommended to me to be the best. Have they not done any business with foreign customers before? Doesn’t he know that I need a valid printed invoice to show to customs? What, first it was no GST bill? And now this? Ask him to take his statue back. I’ll go elsewhere”, ranted Vael, fast and furious.

Sunil stood behind the desk with his pen poised, shocked at the tirade. By the look on his face Sarayu knew that she didn’t have to translate anything to him.

“Don’t you have a computer to print the invoice?” she asked gently.

Sunil just shook his head silently. He was afraid to open his mouth and speak lest he say something and lose the business that had come to the shop. If the owner got to know about this, he would be so livid that he would take the whole thirty two thousand plus GST from his salary.

“Don’t you have anything to print the invoice with?” she asked again softly.

“There’s only an old typewriter”, answered Sunil.

Sarayu turned to Vael and said, “They have only an old typewriter, Sir. Will that do?” she asked.

“Typewriter? That old manual thing that you press the keys?” Vael asked incredulously. “Do they still use that ancient thing?”

Sarayu nodded and said, “Apparently they do”.

“Well, something is better than nothing, I suppose. As long as it is not handwritten”, conceded Vael grudgingly.

Sarayu turned to Sunil and said, “Please bring that and type the invoice before he changes his mind”.

Sunil hurried inside the back portion and came out bearing the heavy typewriter. In spite of themselves, Vael and Sarayu looked at the machine eagerly. It was older than their grandfather’s and the same brand as the mechanic Shanmugam had said. They watched without taking their eyes off the machine as Sunil typed the invoice on the form. “Make it out to Gregory Chatham, Australia”, said Sarayu and typed the name in her phone and showed it to him so that he could get the spelling right. Sunil carefully typed it in and the other details, pulled it out of the machine and signed it with some illegible writing.

“Please ask him to affix the seal also”, said Vael and before Sarayu could translate it, Sunil had already affixed the shop’s seal on to the invoice.

“Please ask him if he will accept Australian dollars. I don’t have any Indian money left”, Said Vael.

As Sarayu translated, Sunil happily nodded and said that they accept all currencies. Sarayu did the rupee conversion on her phone and showed him the amount the bill came to in Australian dollars which was six hundred and fifty three dollars. Sarayu showed the amount to Vael who then proceeded to take out his wallet and count out the dollars. He handed the money to Sarayu who in turn counted it and handed it to Sunil saying, “There are six hundred and sixty dollars in this. Please keep the change”.  

Sunil took the money from her and counted it twice. He then nodded to say that it was all there. Sarayu asked for the invoice and Sunil gave it to her. She went over the invoice to make sure that the details were correct. She then handed it over to Vael who also made a show of checking the invoice. He nodded as if to say that he was satisfied.

“Well, then, thank you, Mr. Sunil. I’ll visit here the next time I’m in Chennai”, he said and turned and walked out.

Sarayu followed suit whispering a thank you to Sunil on her part. They reached the car and saw that their grandfather was waiting anxiously by the car, looking at the doorway of the shop. When he saw them walk out he heaved a sigh of relief, but concealed it by walking over to back and opening and holding the door open for Vael to get in.

Vael got in and Sarayu got in the front passenger seat. Muthuramalingam hurried over to the driver’s side and started the car and drove away from the bungalow that housed the shop. They saw in the rear view mirror that Sunil had come to the entrance and stood watching the car till it turned the corner and went out of his sight.

And then their luck ran out.