Exploring the Legacy of South Asian Corner Shops in Britain
Words by Yogi Trivedi
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Exploring the Legacy of South Asian Corner Shops in Britain
Our shop hummed with life at all hours. The gentle whirr of the fridge units, the staccato rustling of packets as my mother re-stocked shelves, and the low murmur of my uncle’s voice as he spoke to customers. The smell, too, was distinctive. It smelled of everything, and nothing in particular. The powdery scent of the cardboard boxes in the storage room, and the penny sweets lining the back wall mixed with the smell of spices drifting downstairs from the flat above where we lived. It had the deep, settled air of a place that had seen years of work and dedication.
I often did my homework with my mother while sitting behind the counter, and when footfall was quiet, my father and I would chuckle about the characters that trickled in through the door. So much of my time was spent on that tiny shop floor, whether I was working hard or idling (they often felt the same) that it felt like an extension of home. A space we worked hard to tend, in a country that didn’t always want us there.
It was jarring then, to hear the word ‘Paki’ for the first time in this precious space.