Edited by Aashi Galriya
Remember the corner stores we all had in our neighbourhoods growing up? The site of all the hustle and bustle, the chit-chat, the tea-drinkers with their morning papers? These small corner stores weren’t just places to buy daily essentials; they were hubs for social interaction and community bonding. However, their numbers have been dwindling significantly. It was only when I visited Kolkata’s Stock Exchange Tea Stall, familiarly known as Kona Dukan, that I realised how vastly their numbers have declined.
At Kona Dukan, the sights and sounds brought a rush of nostalgia. The huge stack of chairs, the quick service, the constant orders of malai toast and chai—all this in the middle of a road, with cars passing by and street vendors selling pens and candles—was a sight that felt nostalgic.
Yet, I realised how rare such scenes have become. Stores like this, once integral to neighbourhoods, are becoming increasingly scarce. An article highlighted how quick-commerce platforms have led to the closure of over 200,000 Kirana stores in a year, particularly in metro cities. Many of these stores had been serving their communities for over 70 years, only to be forced to shut down by the rise of delivery apps promising ‘fast’ service and 10-minute deliveries.
Kirana stores operate in a way that’s vastly different from the bland interfaces of modern apps and supermarkets. Shopkeepers have really close relationships with their clientele, it’s very rare for a shopkeeper to not recognise one of their regulars – often making small talk about their wellbeing. A hallmark of this relationship is the ‘khata’ system—a credit system where customers buy now and pay later. It’s hard to imagine such an arrangement with a faceless e-commerce platform.
Further, these Kirana stores foster social interaction. These tiny establishments act as informal gathering spots where neighbours meet, exchange news, and share a cup of tea in the evening. In today’s fast-paced world, where neighbours barely know each other’s names, these stores play a pivotal role in strengthening social bonds.
These kirana stores also help the economy of a community flourish. The system provides livelihood to millions of small business owners and workers. Their existence ensures accessibility to daily essentials, especially in areas where large supermarkets or delivery services might not reach. Moreover, these stores often cater to specific local tastes and needs, preserving the cultural identity of these spaces. However, the rise of quick-commerce platforms has disrupted this ecosystem. E-commerce giants and supermarkets lure customers with promises of convenience and discounts, often at the expense of our traditional stores. Younger generations, in particular, are drawn to the convenience of online shopping, leading to reduced foot traffic for Kirana stores.
These stores are a beacon of light during times of crisis. With their adaptability to all scenarios, kirana stores have proven indispensable. The COVID-19 pandemic is a prime example. While global supply chains faltered and larger stores struggled to keep up, kirana stores stepped in to ensure communities had access to essentials. Their resilience and commitment underscored their importance as pillars of local economies.
The dwindling number of these stores is not just an economic loss but an emotional one. I remember visiting these stores with my parents, handing over shopping lists to the shopkeeper, and watching in awe as they retrieved every item from the few shelves. These stores felt like magic, there was nothing I remember ever being out of stock. The best part? Instead of receiving change, I’d often get small candies or toffees. Such personal touches are impossible to replicate in the impersonal world of quick commerce and retail grocery stores.
The disappearance of Kirana stores reflects how our priorities as a community have shifted. Convenience and speed are valued over community and connection. However, the loss of these stores means more than just the loss of a place to buy groceries. It’s the loss of a space where people connect, share stories, and build relationships. Efforts to preserve Kirana stores should focus on modernization and support while finding a way to balance it out with the nostalgia that helped preserve community tastes.
While Kona Dukan still stands, Kolkata too is losing its essence. Trams – The Kolkata trams serve as a living symbol of the city’s rich heritage, their slow pace and vintage design often feature in literature and films. Kolkata boasts the oldest operating electric tram system in Asia making it a part of everyday life for many Kolkata residents, connecting different neighborhoods and creating a sense of community. However, due to the challenges posed by increasing traffic in Kolkata, the tram will only be operational on one route.
The famous yellow taxis of Kolkata face pretty much the same fate. It is estimated that by the end of 2026, only 3000 such cabs will exist. These dwindling numbers have been noticed by Amul as well, in a campaign stating ‘cabbie na jao chhod ke’. The nostalgia that factors in while riding in one of these cabs is undeniable. They are a part of Kolkata’s unique charm and are the first thing that people think of when they think of Kolkata. These images have been propagated by directors such as Satyajit Ray. However, with the phasing out of older Ambassador models due to emission norms, the future of the iconic yellow taxis is uncertain, raising concerns about the potential loss of this important cultural element of Kolkata.
Our cities are losing their heritage and their own essence. By getting rid of community spaces that have existed for generations we are getting rid of what makes our cities unique. If we don’t make conscious efforts to conserve these places we are at risk of homogenizing our cities. How will a house feel like a home if it has no furnishing? How will a city be home without any factors that demarcate it from other places?