In the shaded belly of Kolkata’s historic New Market, sunlight filters through coloured glass and falls upon a chaos that feels almost choreographed: rows of kurtas, denim knockoffs, jute bags, oxidised jewellery, and humble but loud culinary shrines.
Yet, beneath the kaleidoscope of colour lies an unspoken script – bargaining. Not merely tolerated here, but expected, and even celebrated.
At first glance, the back-and-forth may seem petty. But spend an hour observing, and a pattern emerges – one that is less about currency and more about rhythm. A teenage girl pleads for a pair of earrings to be lowered by rupees thirty. A vendor scoffs, walks away theatrically, only to return two minutes later, muttering, “Okay, for you, I’ll make it Rs 250.”
“It’s not just about the price. It’s a game we both agree to play,” says 23-year-old Rusha Das, a young professional hunting for a vintage shirt. “I feel like I’ve earned it when I get a good deal.”
In New Market, no price tag is sacrosanct. The dance of bargain is as much a theatre as it is a game of psychology. “We quote high not to fool anyone, but to leave room for conversation,” says a garment dealer, who has spent over 25 years selling first-copy T-shirts at the foot of the Grand Hotel. “If a customer simply agrees to the price, it’s almost amusing.”
“There’s a certain dignity in negotiation,” notes Arup Ratan Acharjee, a professor of mass communication at Seth Anandram Jaipuria College, under the University of Calcutta.
In the heart of this everyday performance has always been a strange intimacy. “It used to feel like a friendly duel,” chuckles 86-year-old Mr Bibhash Chattopadhyay, a retired employee of the state and lifelong Calcuttan, who frequented New Market for decades. “I didn’t go just to buy, but to feel the pulse.”
Stall owners, too, play their part with flair. “We leave a little room for the customer to feel victorious,” grins Md Asmique, who’s been selling bags since the early 2000s. “But there’s mutual respect, no one wants to cheat.”
New Market, officially named Sir Stuart Hogg Market, has long evolved from its colonial beginnings into a democratic microcosm. Rich or poor, seasoned or novice, everyone here negotiates.
As malls multiply and e-commerce renders human interaction obsolete, New Market endures. It reminds us that behind every transaction lies a conversation; and in every haggle, a quiet assertion of identity.