“Why are you asking me too many questions?” asks Tamil, hugging a stack of yellow CSK T-shirts. From a plastic bag slung across his shoulder, peep more CSK merchandise such as caps and flags. He’s in his late teens; gangly, with a suggestion of a moustache.
“I didn’t like school so I stopped going. I do odd jobs and decided to sell IPL T-shirts this time. It’s good money.” They are seated in groups on either side of the M.A. Chidambaram Stadium in Chepauk — men, women and children, who’ve been drawn from places as far as Red Hills, Avadi and Ambattur to the stadium. Some of them don’t know a thing about IPL. But they do know that they can make a living out of it by selling merchandise.
Most of these vendors are auto drivers who’ve taken a break from work. Anniyappan waits for customers with his ware spread on the pavement opposite the stadium hours before the match between Chennai Super Kings and Mumbai Indians. “I drive an auto all day. I now get to sit under a tree with my family and earn a little more,” he says. His wife Gowri beams in excitement — this is her summer outing where she gets to watch the cricket crowd and the important-looking traffic constables. “She’s at home the whole day, so I bring her and the kids,” adds Anniyappan. A CSK T-shirt pulled over her sari, his daughter Maria feeds her new-born — she’s a flower seller and her husband Ramraj is an auto-driver.
Auto-driver Nagalingam has invested Rs. 20,000 in the merchandise. “I hope I make some profit,” he says. “When I started out in 2005, there was hardly any competition. But now, several people have come to do business. I know men who’ve put in as much as Rs. 2 lakh into merchandise. They travel to all the cities that host IPL matches,” he explains. Nagalingam too has brought his wife and children along.
The children of the merchandise-sellers do the rounds with the ware inside carry-bags. “Sometimes, when people have extra tickets, they offer it to me and I get to go watch the match with my kid,” smiles Anand, an auto-driver who sells merchandise.
Devika balances a stack of yellow T-shirts in one hand while she holds a bunch of flags in the other. She stands in the searing heat opposite the stadium. “I usually sell colouring books and car dusters in T-Nagar,” she says. “Since all my friends and relatives are at the stadium, I decided to come along,” she adds. “A T-shirt costs Rs. 90 in the wholesale market and I sell it at Rs. 120.” Devika doesn’t care much for cricket. “The men watch the matches. But I’m not interested in them. The moment it starts, I head back home.”
Anniyappan, though, is a cricket fanatic. “I run home to watch the match on TV once it starts,” he smiles. Has he watched a match live, at the stadium? “No way!” Ramraj cuts in. “A ticket costs Rs. 750. We hardly make that much.”
