From a Basket of Bananas to a Lifelong Business: Sanjay’s 22-Year Journey Through Kathmandu’s Changing Fruit Market
Sanjay has been in the fruit business for 22 years now. Reflecting on the current market, he says:
“I’ve never seen a slowdown like this before.”
His journey began in the narrow lanes of Bagbazaar, Kathmandu. With a basket full of bananas, Sanjay stepped into the fruit trade. The city back then was a very different place—fewer houses, cleaner rivers, less traffic, and a much smaller population.
When Sanjay first arrived in Kathmandu, he had one goal: to follow in the footsteps of his elder brothers and relatives, who were already working in the fruit business. They were supplying fruits around the city, and he joined them. That was the beginning of Jai Fruit Shop.
A Humble Start
Starting off with just a basket in hand, Sanjay sold bananas in the Bagbazaar area. A few years later, he was able to open a small shop near Ratopul by renting space. That’s when Jai Fruit Shop officially began.
However, in 2013 (2070 B.S.), his shop was demolished during a road expansion project. Once again, Sanjay adapted. He relocated nearby, to Maitidevi Mod, and now rents two shutters where he sells both fruits and vegetables. He expanded into vegetables this year, seeing it as a natural addition with the same infrastructure and similar market.
“There’s been a lot of struggle to get here,” he recalls. “Sometimes I wonder how we even managed it all. Looking back, it feels almost unbelievable.”
Today, Jai Fruit Shop offers fresh seasonal fruits, juice, and fruit salad. Sanjay smiles and says:
“That’s what a fruit shop is, right? Fruit, juice, and salad—simple as that.”
Then vs. Now: A Changing Market
Looking back, Sanjay sees a huge difference between the fruit market of 22 years ago and today. At that time, the market mostly relied on local produce. Imported fruits were rare, and the variety was limited.
“When I started, there weren’t many fruit sellers. There weren’t as many types of fruit either,” he says.
The market was dominated by locally grown produce, and because imports weren’t as accessible, Nepali fruits were in high demand.
“Fruits used to come in baskets. One basket cost Rs. 500, and we sold it for Rs. 10 to 20 per kilo,” he remembers.
Back then, fruits would stay fresh for a week. Without chemicals, and using only natural fertilizers, the shelf life was longer.
“Now, with all the chemical use, fruits spoil in just a day or two,” he says. “The business just isn’t as satisfying as before.”
Today, most fruits are imported.
“Local produce has become rare. It’s just not like it used to be.”
Last fiscal year alone, Nepal imported over 12 billion rupees’ worth of apples.
More People, More Demand—but Less Profit
With Kathmandu’s growth, fruit consumption has increased—but so has inflation. Sanjay admits that while income seems higher, rising costs have outpaced earnings.
“Running the shop, raising a family in Kathmandu, and trying to save money—it’s all become much harder,” he says.
He believes that the financial pressure on customers is affecting sales too.
Thanks to his long-standing relationships with wholesalers, Sanjay can still bring in supplies on credit and pay after selling.
“I’m an old face in the business. That trust helps,” he adds.
When he started in 2003 (2060 B.S.), his shop rent was just Rs. 1,700 a month. Daily sales were around Rs. 5,000, with solid profit margins.
“Back then, we earned more with less. Now, even Rs. 10,000 in sales only gives about Rs. 1,500 in profit.”
He says customer behavior has changed too.
“Earlier, people would buy five kilos. Now, even selling one kilo is difficult.”
“Everything’s expensive. It’s hard for the buyer and hard for the seller.”
Spoilage and Slim Margins
Spoilage is a constant risk in this line of work.
“If a pomegranate rots, that’s a Rs. 100 loss right there,” Sanjay says.
Imported fruits are especially vulnerable.
“If I bring in 50 kilos of mangoes, 10 to 15 kilos might spoil,” he explains.
When customers are selective and only buy a few items, leftover stock often goes to waste.
He adds that the business is especially tough for newcomers.
“You have to understand the risks. Fruits spoil fast, and income is unpredictable.”
“With small sales and thin profit margins, you need experience to survive.”
Hopes and Grievances
Sanjay believes the government could do more to support small fruit vendors. He urges stronger regulation in wholesale markets like Balkhu and Kalimati. He also expresses frustration over high rent, taxes, and rising costs.
“Rent alone is a burden. I pay Rs. 2,500 just for garbage collection every month, and over Rs. 40,000 a year in taxes. With rent, taxes, and inflation, making a living is becoming harder.”
Still Standing Strong
Despite all the hurdles, Sanjay continues. His shop has raised and supported his family for over two decades. All four of his children are growing up and studying thanks to this business. His family members also help at the shop.
What began with just a few thousand rupees has now grown into a business worth several lakhs. Over two decades, he’s witnessed—and adapted to—Kathmandu’s rapid transformation. In many ways, the city and his business have grown together.
But even now, Sanjay says this is the most difficult time he’s faced. From nothing, he built something—but he sometimes wonders if it’s all still worth it.
“Sometimes I feel like giving it all up and going back to the village,” he says.
But deep down, he knows that’s not an easy decision.
Still, his voice softens when he speaks about the journey.
“This business brought me here. If I can, I’ll keep going.”
