Hawkers of hawa.

[Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi]

Some hawkers hawk things as common as the mobile phone screen guard. Some hawkers hawk things as uncommon as the “drawing room fish.” Consider this hawker of children’s toys, here in a central Delhi market—see photo. Among other things, he is hawking… hawa!

Irshad is selling breeze, among other things. The breeze is in the form of a pinwheel. The tiny toy traditionally comprises of carefully cut paper pieces attached to a stick. The breeze in the air forces the paper pieces to spin merrily, like a fairground carousel. In the absence of sufficient breeze, the pinwheel player may force it to rotate by blowing on it.

In a time when our pleasures and distractions are almost wholly sourced from the mobile phone screen, the survival of an object as old-fashioned and analogue as a pinwheel is a miracle.

Pinwheel, however, is rarely sighted in the city streets. Ghaziabad dweller Pushpa Singh, who grew up in rural UP, recalls her long-ago childhood, buying pinwheels in village melas. She says she hasn’t seen them for decades. Whatever, vendor Irshad gets his stock of pinwheels from a Sadar Bazar wholesaler. He calls it khirki, which means window. The vendor is unable to explain the logic behind the name (could it be because a window lets in hawa into the room?). Whatever, the toy seller stocks the pinwheels only during the monsoon months—“because sawan is the only time in the year when the mausam becomes breezy.”

The truth is that pinwheels, rarity apart, are sold outside the monsoon season as well. Hawker Satish, for instance, sells them in Janakpuri all through the 12 months. Besides, no celebration of the pinwheel can be complete without offering an ode to vendor Suraj in Gurugram’s Sadar Bazar. The young man’s pinwheels, which he calls phirki, are distinguished for being a skilled work of handmade craft. They look so artsy that they won’t be out of place in the drawing room of a Tara Apartment aesthete. Suraj says he rustles out his pinwheels from just three elements— A4 coloured paper, plain wires, and wooden “baas.” He conducts his business by slowly, silently, strolling through the market lanes, holding vertical a tall rod covered with dozens of multi-coloured phirkis. These light fans are sensitive to the most imperceptible breeze in the air, and constantly wheel in circles, making a faint rustling sound. The sight of Suraj’s mobile stall is truly extraordinary. As if he were holding on to a waterfall, shimmering with the colours of a rainbow.

Meanwhile, Irshad, the aforementioned toy vendor, receives a customer. The child does not care for the pinwheels, arranged at the top of the vendor’s pole, getting a plastic gada (mace) instead.