A Rant: Online Shopping Chronicles of Nepal- The Absurdity of “Pp”
Well, isn’t this just a delightful source of perpetual irritation for me! You see, as a discerning consumer, I turn to the realm of online services with the hope of saving both my precious time and my sanity from the relentless barrage of 10,000 other things that sellers desperately want to shove down my throat. I crave a swift, easy, and blissfully uncomplicated shopping experience.
But alas, in the land of Nepal, why, oh why, do almost every blessed online seller refuse to reveal the price of their goods? It’s as if they’re guarding the state secrets of a clandestine society. I mean, seriously, if you’re trying to sell something to your dear customers, shouldn’t you at least consider mentioning the price? Sure, I get the concept of dynamic pricing and all those clever strategies, but if your product is as stable as a sloth on sedatives, why not spare five measly minutes and scribble down the price in the description instead of waxing poetic about why your price is a mysterious chameleon that changes colors every five minutes?
What I truly yearn for is a good old dose of transparency, a refreshing sip from the fountain of accessible information. But no, the trend here seems to be the “pp pp pp” game, where you have to beg, plead, and perform interpretive dance just to get a hint of what something might cost. User engagement, they say? More like user enrage-ment! Why not use that dusty old brain and come up with innovative ways to entice your customers instead of following the worn-out playbook that’s been passed down through generations like a cursed heirloom?
Sure, you’ve managed to slap together a product or start a business, but that alone doesn’t exactly scream commitment. Come on, defend your creation, sell it to me like it’s the last piece of chocolate in a zombie apocalypse! Your lackadaisical approach isn’t just evident in your pricing shenanigans; it’s like a neon sign flashing “mediocrity” over your entire operation. And you know what? Savvy consumers will regrettably choose to explore alternative options rather than engage with businesses that do not demonstrate a sincere commitment to their offerings and respect the time and intelligence of consumers.
Haina, isn’t it about time we challenge such absurdities? Are we, as consumers, inadvertently fueling this unwritten tradition of having to inquire about prices on every single page? Ki kaso ho? Shouldn’t we aspire to higher standards? Can Nepal’s market ever evolve for the better? Must we consistently tolerate scams and misleading advertisements while resigning ourselves to the phrase, “Yestai ho yeha ko chalan”?
You know what this situation is reminiscent of? Picture yourself strolling into a superstore, eagerly seeking the price tag on a product, only to find it conspicuously absent. When you approach the seller for clarification, they reveal that the price was guarded with such secrecy that it required a covert rendezvous in a room rivaling the exclusivity of Area 51.
Ah, then we have the size conundrum, a riddle that seems to escape Nepal entirely! SIZES! Not everything is a one-size-fits-all miracle. And what in the actual underworld is “free size”? These sellers toss around that term like confetti at a New Year’s Eve party. But let’s not kid ourselves, folks—it’s a sham! There’s no such thing as “free size.” You can’t stuff an XL human into an S-size t-shirt and expect it to magically fit like a glove. It doesn’t work that way. Your lack of diversity in product sizing and inclusivity leads you to invent this absurd concept called “free size”? Well, free size your you-know-what, you piece of nonsense!
Apologies, I digress but don’t even get me started on nutritional information and ingredients on food packaging! I’m starting to believe we’ll sooner discover unicorns than find those details on any Nepali product! It’s like this country is run by nincompoops, and they’re doing a splendid job turning everyone else into one too.
Overreacting much am I?
Well, here’s a wicked thought: maybe I should kick off a rant series to unleash my frustrations about the bizarre circus that often unfolds in Nepal. It’s like a twisted form of therapy, you know?