"Kabadiwala or junk dealer is a term commonly used in Hindistani to refer to a person who deals with old household products."
Google shows you this when you search for the meaning of 'kabadiwala' but we Indian kids know they're more than just junk dealers. Every child was haunted by the call of the kabadiwala at some point of their early childhood. By the time they reached the mid-childhood years, they would wonder what exactly the man was trying to say (I'm still stuck here though). He was the person our mothers would scare us with, when we wouldn't go to sleep. End of the day, whichever part of the country you were in, at least once in three months on a Sunday that familiar voice echoed across the quiet streets and you'd know it's that time of the month again.
Kabadiwalas for our mothers were something else. They gave mothers an opportunity to trade all the old used goods for a decent price. You're basically getting money for discarding your old newspapers and scraps of metal and plastic. In a mother's perspective, you're clearing the house and getting paid for it! So, no longer could the "I'm a housewife. I don't get paid for my work and still I do everything" line work on us.
On the morning of the monthly ordeal, the kids would get a heads up to clear out all the old question papers, answer sheets and other stationery from their closets and cupboards. Then finally, close to noon, the doorbell would ring and everyone would get down to business. Stacking up newspapers and checking how much they weighed on the scale, seeing your mother bargain and haggle for an extra ten bucks on some charger that's in a "good condition" was another experience all together. Once everything was done, a look of accomplishment would sprawl across your mother's face. By then, reality would have caught up with her and her next thought would be- "what should I make for lunch?".
Google shows you this when you search for the meaning of 'kabadiwala' but we Indian kids know they're more than just junk dealers. Every child was haunted by the call of the kabadiwala at some point of their early childhood. By the time they reached the mid-childhood years, they would wonder what exactly the man was trying to say (I'm still stuck here though). He was the person our mothers would scare us with, when we wouldn't go to sleep. End of the day, whichever part of the country you were in, at least once in three months on a Sunday that familiar voice echoed across the quiet streets and you'd know it's that time of the month again.
Kabadiwalas for our mothers were something else. They gave mothers an opportunity to trade all the old used goods for a decent price. You're basically getting money for discarding your old newspapers and scraps of metal and plastic. In a mother's perspective, you're clearing the house and getting paid for it! So, no longer could the "I'm a housewife. I don't get paid for my work and still I do everything" line work on us.
On the morning of the monthly ordeal, the kids would get a heads up to clear out all the old question papers, answer sheets and other stationery from their closets and cupboards. Then finally, close to noon, the doorbell would ring and everyone would get down to business. Stacking up newspapers and checking how much they weighed on the scale, seeing your mother bargain and haggle for an extra ten bucks on some charger that's in a "good condition" was another experience all together. Once everything was done, a look of accomplishment would sprawl across your mother's face. By then, reality would have caught up with her and her next thought would be- "what should I make for lunch?".
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