Mysore Shopping Walkthrough

Mysore is home to a number of lovely products which you might want to take back with you as gifts for family and friends. In terms of shopping, it outdoes Hyderabad by far.

Many of these products (I'm trying to be really vague here, so no one knows what is ending up in their Christmas stocking) are sold in stalls outside of Mysore Palace.

Don't buy them there.

Instead, go to Jaganmohan Palace, which functions as an art gallery. Pay the Rs 15 to tour the galleries (yes, even firengis pay only Rs 15!). You'll end up in a row of shops, each taking up one room in the palace.

You're welcome to browse every room. There are about seven of them. They all sell relatively the same things, but the prices decrease the further down the hallway you go.

So when you see that special something you really like in the first shop, don't buy it there. Go to the end of the hallway and buy it in the last room for half the price.

Then exit the palace. To the right, there is an outdoor market, similar to the one outside the Mysore Palace. Fixed prices. They're exactly the same things the Mysore Palace touts had been hawking for seven- and eight hundred rupees, now being sold for Rs 50 and Rs 100.

Jaganmohan Palace is the one place where I wish I had done more shopping. ^__^

Fun With Auto Drivers!

In Bangalore I have finally met the "please let me take you to this emporium" auto drivers.

They tell me that they will get books for their children, shirts for their backs, cans of petrol for their autos, if I will only take the time to stop into one or two stores.

They're quite persuasive. But it's like being asked to give up a seat on an airplane... that is, if you wait long enough, they start offering stuff.

Like free rides.

So I, ever the rupee-counter, have been having some fun with these auto drivers. Once we get the money thing settled up, I'll happily go into whatever emporium they suggest. They even tell me what to say at the counter ("just got off the airplane, isn't India wonderful?" etc.), and I dutifully agree.

And then I traipse into these posh little stores and get waited on hand-and-foot. Oh, yes, I've just arrived in India. Yes, from the U.S. Texas, in fact. Or Kansas. Oh, these silk scarves are beautiful! Yes, I'd love to try that on! Of course, chai would be lovely.

And then, after the necessary five minutes, I turn around and hurry out. Urgent phone call. Or maybe I forgot I had a cinema to get to. At one, I just tossed my hair and said "bye, boys!"

The only catch is that the things in these shops are really nice. Much nicer than the stuff they sell on the street. I saw a set of ivory elephants that practically made me drool, and I had to remind myself that ivory is un-environmental and cruel to animals.

And those boys do know how to pick a scarf to match my eyes.

Hmmm. I wonder how many cans of petrol the driver would get if I actually bought something?

More Fabulous Deals!

Here are the other two things I purchased today (well, the two I can show you... mumble mumble Christmas mumble).

This lovely bottle of "exotic" attar, at Rs 30 (down from 70). Having two old perfume salesmen argue over which attar suited me best was great fun. I just googled "Rajnigandha" to find out what it meant, and turned up "night fragrance." Was hoping it would be more specific, as the internets have yet to add a "smell" application and so I can't share this attar with you. Which is too bad, because it smells enchanting.


And this charming "night suit" (asking for pajamas, of course, meant that they showed me pants). I haven't had a new pair of pajamas since my undergrad roommate (who's also done a research project in India, coincidentally enough) gave me some as a present. Normally I wouldn't care, but if I'm going to be traveling and visiting people I thought it might suit to have something that isn't threadbare. Went to six different shops and finally found one that would sell them to me for Rs 135 (the going rate was Rs 250). And they're adorable.


That's all for now. I was at Charminar most of the day today but didn't take any pictures (although I had my camera) because... well, because it felt strange to be taking pictures of all of these people who were out doing their daily shopping. I really wanted to take a picture of the Hyderabadi biryani I had for lunch, but no one else was pulling their camera out in the middle of the restaurant, so... you'll just have to imagine it with me.

I Love You, Tiffin-Carrier

I am so in love with my tiffin-carrier.


It has its own metal plate, for eating on. How cute is that?


And yes, I went to five different metal shops looking for the best deal (they were right next to each other, after all), and got this one at last for Rs 95, when the initial prices quoted were all around Rs 200. Sweet.

A Question About Indian Economics (or, OMGWTF SHOES!!!)

I've found, while wandering through Hyderabad, that the streets seem to be set up according to product. That is, on one street a person will find nothing but sari shops; on the next street nothing but household goods; on the third street, sixteen kiranas.

Turning every corner, it becomes OMGWTF SHOES! OMGWTF PERFUMES! OMGWTF BANGLES!

This puzzles me, economically. How can so many people sell the same thing, side-by-side? Sure, it's very useful for me as a consumer because then I can go from stall to stall comparing prices and quality (which seems to really irritate all of the salesmen -- they chase after me calling out "Madam, what is wrong?"), but wouldn't it soon become obvious to everyone on the street which shop was offering the best deals? And then wouldn't everyone try to undercut, purchase better merchandise, whatever?

If there were only one shoe store on the block, everyone would have to get their shoes there. But if it's OMGWTF SHOES!!!, doesn't each individual store lose money and opportunity?

Or is there something else involved?

Thoughts on Salwars, Part One

If I am out shopping for salwars, and you have already shown me fifteen suits in various shades of synthetic and sequin, and I have refused them all, there is no need to show me any more. I know you like throwing them down on the little white table with that flourish you have. But adding the sixteenth one, in neon orange, is not going to change my mind.

Seriously, you guys.