The Original One

 The Search for the Original in a World of Imitations

The timeless tale of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves from Arabian Nights continues to enchant readers across generations. Though it is a fairy tale, one episode from it feels strikingly familiar in real life. When the robber chief marked Ali Baba’s house so he could find it later, the quick-witted slave girl Marjina foiled him by marking every neighbouring house with the same sign, leaving the thieves bewildered and saving her master. Surprisingly, a similar confusion confronts unsuspecting travellers even today—not in a storybook, but in the marketplace.

A few years ago, while travelling from Mumbai to Pune, my family decided to stop at Lonavala to buy the famous Maganlal Chikki, a name long associated with the hill town. Having just visited Sunil's Wax Museum, we were eager to carry home the “original” chikki for friends and relatives.

The moment we entered Lonavala, a large shop with the bold signboard Maganlal Ki Chikki caught our eye. Without a second thought, we bought two large packs and continued our journey, satisfied with our purchase. But as we drove further into town, another equally prominent shop with the same name appeared. Before we could recover from our surprise, my wife pointed to yet another one on the opposite side of the road. Soon it seemed as though every second shop in Lonavala claimed to be Maganlal Ki Chikki.

Curiosity got the better of me. I stopped at one of the shops and asked, “Which one is the original?” The answer came without hesitation: “Sir, we are the original.” At another outlet, I received the very same reply. As I was leaving, a shopkeeper smiled and said, “Sahib, humse le lo, hamari chikki kaunsi buri hai?” (Sir, buy from us; what is wrong with our chikki?) By then, I was left wondering whether I had bought the genuine article or merely an imitation.

I experienced an even stronger sense of déjà vu at Ambala cantt while searching for the legendary 'Pooran Singh ka Dhaba' We parked under a dhaba bearing the famous name and ordered our food. Looking out of the window, I noticed another Pooran Singh ka Dhaba across the road. Stepping outside for clarification only deepened the mystery; there seemed to be several establishments claiming the same legacy. Finally, a local resident informed me that the original dhaba was tucked away in a nearby lane, modest and almost forgotten, while numerous others had borrowed variations of its celebrated name.

These incidents taught me an important lesson. In today’s world, originality is increasingly difficult to find. Names, brands and reputations are replicated so convincingly that an unsuspecting customer can easily be misled. Unless one researches thoroughly beforehand—often with the help of Google—falling prey to imitations becomes almost inevitable.

Like Marjina’s ingenious trick in Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, the modern marketplace too is crowded with identical signs that make distinguishing the genuine from the fake an arduous task. In this age of imitation, finding the original has become a treasure hunt in itself.

 After all Ambala to Pune India is one