Hawker

By Aditya Gauri

Raju had no choice. Beggars can’t be choosers. He had to do it. His natural disposition didn’t suit this kind of work, but a man does what he must do to survive. That’s how it goes. First day on the job, cheap plastic purses strapped across his chest, he showed up early when the market opened. Back and forth across the square, trying to make a sale.

The job demands confidence. Out in public, pacing among the youth, the passing girls—those charming ones in giggling groups or walking hand in hand with boyfriends. That confidence has to carry in the voice too. Raju’s isn’t deep. To sound convincing he has to take a deep breath, hold it, then push the words out. And the job means non-stop shouting. Being annoying is part of the trade. He has to stay persistent. What else can he do—throw a tantrum after thirty minutes of pacing and yelling, kick the ground and scream, “Screw you all, I’m done with this shit,” then slink home whimpering, face hidden?

Later that evening he updated his LinkedIn bio: Hawker.

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Aditya Gauri is a writer based in Delhi. His work explores everyday lives,

interiority, and quiet social tensions.