Representative photograph
Sometimes, roadside vendors can teach you a lot more than any business school or training session can. And if you keep your eyes wide open to observe and question everything you observe, trust me, the class is on every time you take to the streets. This morning was one of the best demonstrations of trust and customer relations. It was not an AI-based digital service provider with fancy algorithms working for it but a vegetable vendor with an open mind.
Introducing Molley, a lady who sells primarily green and fresh vegetables just across the gate of a public school.
If you ever doubted the rule of location, location, and location for such a business, this demonstrated it.
Molley sits cross-legged on the mat, and her vegetables are spread on a bori– the woven sack placed on the road. She uses fresh banana leaves to line the road outside the area covered by the sacks.
She is at the corner diagonally opposite the school gate. You would think there is nothing special about the location. However, if you stop there, you will soon realise that primarily, women from nearby societies and her core catchment area come to drop their children at school every morning. Some women walk to the school; many come in their cars and two-wheelers to drop off their children. Most of them buy vegetables for the day on the way back home.
With time, Molley, a plump-looking, sweet-natured vegetable vendor, crafted and nurtured her customer base. A large section of these ladies buy vegetables from her, even though there are a few vegetable carts just a few meters away and one big, well-stacked shop that even promises home delivery.
So, I stood there, taking a ringside view, as my wife bought vegetables from who else but Molley.
She has an ongoing crisp banter with another set of ladies, who address her by name. She replies to them by their name and suitable didi (elder sister), aunti or taayi (elder lady-normally paternal aunt) prefix or pronoun.
This is Molley’s loyal customer base, which she has cultivated through her personalised service and warm demeanour.
Now, the first magic realisation. There is no weighing scale. Everything is sold on a per-unit basis. It was not only Palak (Spinach), Methi (fenugreek), Kheera (Cucumber) and Nimbu (lemon) which are anyway sold per unit, but also included things like Baigan (Eggplant), Gaajar (Carror), Mooli (White Raddish), Lauki (Gourd) and Mattar (green peas) too.
One of the ladies picks up some carrot and places them in a polythene bag. She claims it is 500 grams, but Molley disagrees. She takes the bag, removes two pieces, and gives the bag back to her. She joyfully announces, Taayi– this is now aadha kilo (500 grams). The ladies contests her action, and Molley challenges them to weigh it at the nearby shop. They also threaten to do it one day and unanimously agree that they should do it. Molley smiles. The deal is done, and payment is received.
You realise the weighing threat is harmless banter; it will be a while before anyone does it.
The other magic realisation hits you harder. Molley is not digitally connected. All cash, no UPI/Gpay or Paytm. She is okay if you are not carrying cash and are even buying from her for the first time. You could pay her tomorrow. Complete trust in a stranger. And the regulars know. So they carry cash.
Another lady’s bill is Rs 310, and she pays just 300. Her excuse is that she does not have a change of Rs 10. Molley jokingly says to her: ‘Bhabhi- 10-10 bacha kart oh iPhone legi kya‘ (Bhabhi- by saving 10-10 rupees- will you buy an iPhone?). Everyone laughs. The light-hearted banter adds a charming touch to the morning interaction and makes everyone smile.
She adds: ‘Aab iss week ka tees ho gaya… pachaas hojayega toh le lungi’ (This week, you have saved thirty when it will add up to fifty, I will collect).
You know it is not going to happen. It is Molley’s investment – a reminder- so everyone must understand that the lady has paid less and is not a discount.
While these exchanges may seem like jest, they subtly reinforce the idea of mutual trust and respect in the business relationship.
Meanwhile, she addresses a somewhat elderly lady- ‘Kaka theek hain? kaisi tabiyat hai?’ ( is uncle well… how is he now?) and further ventures- ‘Kai baat nahi, saab theek ho jayega’. (Don’t worry- things will be okay soon).
Net-net
Molley’s vegetable stand is not just about selling vegetables; it’s a MasterClass in customer relations and trust-building.
Her approach highlights the importance of personalised service, trust, and community engagement in fostering long-term customer loyalty—an invaluable lesson for aspiring management professionals and more so in the digital world.