Summary

The website content details a personal account of a visit to Sakchi market in Jamshedpur, India, capturing the vibrant atmosphere and cultural nuances through photos and descriptions of local attire, festive preparations, and the bustling market life.

Abstract

The author of the web content, Roopa Vikesh, shares her experience of visiting Sakchi market in Jamshedpur, India, during the afternoon. She documents the market's role as a hub for Indian traditional clothing, including sarees and salwar-kameez, and the upcoming festival of Makar Sankranti. The narrative includes vivid descriptions of the market's ambiance, the impact of Covid on public behavior, and the significance of tailored clothing in Indian culture. Through a series of photographs, the author illustrates the variety of goods available, from exotic vegetables to festive sweets and earthenware, and explains the local fashion industry, including the concept of "cut-pieces" used for tailoring traditional attire. The article also serves as an invitation for readers to engage with her content on Medium and consider a membership, while subtly promoting an AI service.

Opinions

The author views the Sakchi market as the heart of Jamshedpur, indicating its importance to the local community.
She implies a sense of pride and expertise in Indian attire, offering to educate readers about salwar-kameez and sarees.
The author suggests a general compliance with Covid regulations due to fear of fines rather than health concerns, as indicated by overheard conversations denying the existence of Covid or Omicron.
She appreciates the variety and lower prices of clothing and goods in the market compared to modern malls.
The author values the tradition of cooking in earthenware for festivals, highlighting cultural practices.
She expresses satisfaction with tailored clothes, emphasizing their comfort, fit, and aesthetic appeal.
Roopa Vikesh sees her everyday experiences as a unique niche for her writing, indicating confidence in the relevance and interest of her stories.
She encourages readers to join Medium and engage with the platform both as consumers and creators of content.

A Walk In The Winter Sun

Sakchi market this afternoon

Broccoli, iceberg lettuce, baby corn, and zucchini are exotic vegetables for us and sell at a premium. Photo by the author.

Sakchi market is the heart of Jamshedpur, India. I took these photos on my afternoon trip there. I had to give some salwar-kameez cloth for tailoring, and some sarees for a “fall” to be stitched onto their lower borders. If you find neither salwar-kameez nor saree familiar, relax and read ahead, they’re just women’s Indianwear and I’ll show you photos of them soon.

A cycle rickshaw. These are used for short distances only. Photo by the author.

The market was crowded and most people had their masks on, in fear of having to pay a ₹500 fine. The people know that a celebration is coming up, Makar Sankranti, a harvest festival, and why aid the policemen by fattening up their official collection purse by breaking this easy-to-follow law!

Makar Sankranti goodies on sale. Most of these are jaggery cakes with grains — sesame and rice predominate in our part of the country. Photo by the author.

Masks stayed on because the policemen are at our heels, waiting for a helmet (for two-wheeled vehicles), masking, or seat belt violation. There might be a few in the crowd who are actually afraid of catching Covid, but from snatches of conversation between shopkeepers and their customers I overheard, I guessed that most people are denying that Omicron or Covid exist.

Photo by the author. A pushcart vendor sells chickpeas, a snack with chopped onion and green chilies, seasoned with a squeeze of lemon. Another sells hair ornaments and artificial jewelry.

The mannequins which display clothes are kept outside shops, following the maxim, “Jo dikhta hai woh bikta hai” which means “Visibility causes sales.”

Another shop with the mannequin display has the name “India Cut-Pieces.”

This merely means that the shop sells cloth pieces that have been cut off from a bale of cloth. Some of these cut-pieces are 80 cm to one meter in length, used for blouses; or 2 meters, used for salwar-kameezes. What does an 80-centimeter cloth cut-piece look like after tailoring, and what does a two-meter cut-piece look like? Let me show you!

Photo by the author. Disclaimer: this photo was taken after a long hard day, and I am very sleepy in this picture!

The yellow garment I am wearing is a blouse. I have paired it with a blue saree with a yellow border. A blouse requires 80 cm cloth. A saree is six yards in length and is sold in shops that usually sell just sarees. Of course, the modern malls have started to stock all-in-one solutions, where you can get a saree, get a fall stitched onto it, get a matching blouse and get it tailored all under the same roof, but the variety and lower prices offered by the shops here beat them hollow.

This is me, in a salwar-kameez with a dupatta. The salwar is a loose pair of trousers, while the dupatta is a stole draped over the shoulders — both are orange. The kameez is a long shirt, in this case it is pink. A kameez would need 2 meters of cloth, as would a salwar.

Sakchi is a busy and colorful market, which is designed to make you spend money and enjoy yourself.

Earthenware is popular at this festive time because people cook rice in brand-new earthenware for the festival on 14 January.

Finally, I pull myself away, after giving the cloth to the tailor. I didn’t take a single picture of his shop, because I was so busy telling him exactly how I wanted my clothes done. Indianwear looks nice because women work hard at giving tailors instructions!

The advantage of tailored clothes of course is that they are very forgiving, are comfortable, and make you look good. The angst about readymade clothes that don’t fit hardly touches us.

There was a time when I would have hesitated to bring such mundanities, such as my oh-so-ordinary trip to Sakchi today, to Medium readers. Over time, I have learned that it is these very stories that are my unique niche, and so I’ve given in. If I snap it, I write about it. If there’s something else you’d like “Roopa, the chatty dentist who bares her soul on Medium each night” to write about, do ask. Maybe it will be the next thing I write about!

https://rovikesh.medium.com/membership Here’s a referral link of mine, and if you haven’t the slightest idea of what that is, you could join Medium to read and make money from writing about what you know. Your $5 monthly membership will pay the grand sum of $2.5 into my account, and you’ll get a link like this one of your own to help promote memberships if you so fancy.