Somabhai

On the way and home buying milk and a banana at my local newsagents, the metal grates begin to close behind me.  'You can take your time', says the man in the grey cardigan behind the counter.  He is largely bald with grey hair neatly cut round the edges.  His forehead has the smudged remains of some red powder (wikipedia tells me it is the Hindu symbol of a third eye called a  tilaka).  I ask my question.

'Oh blimey', he replies with a smile.  He tells me his middle name would be his father's name from India.  I ask him how long he has had the shop.  'Thirty years', he says with resignation.