Last week, this building made news throughout the country as US retail major Wal-Mart’s first ‘cash-and-carry store’, opened as a joint venture with Bharti Enterprises. But not many wake up to newspapers in Jhita Kalan, the tiny hamlet in the building’s backyard, and curiosity levels are high.

Though the village is a few steps away from the ‘Best Price Modern Wholesale’—as the store is called—not many have had a chance to go inside. And that’s much to do with the fact that the store can only sell to licensed members like shopkeepers, dhabha owners, kirana owners and the like.

It’s not as if Jhita Kalan in Amritsar district suddenly woke up to find a superstore in their front yard. The villagers have been keeping a close watch. But it’s a lanky 12-year-old who has been most excited about the store’s opening. “Have you been inside,” asks Harbir Singh excitedly. He is a student of class five at the local school in adjoining Manawala Kalan village.

By then, a crowd has gathered under a tree but Harbir is too excited to stop. Ever since the building began to take shape almost a year ago, Harbir has been convincing friends and family of a movie hall inside. Now with the Coca-Cola ads in the building’s parking space, he is sure there’s one. “He’s dragged me so many times to have a look but we can’t get in as we don’t have a card,” says his father Sher Singh.

The ‘card’ here is the membership card that the store had issued to businessmen and wholesalers but that didn’t deter Sher Singh and his son. Brandishing his prized Voter’s I-card, Sher Singh has made many trips to the “godown”, but hadn’t found the cinema hall.

“I don’t know if they are showing movies in there but my cousin from Manawala Kalan managed to get some things on the first day,” says Sher Singh.

This ‘no-retail’ rule has had villagers disappointed. “I was hired as a daily wager while the building was being built but I am not allowed inside now,” says Amrik Singh, a man in his early 50s. “But I hear it’s a huge canteen and everything’s really cheap,” says Preeto, an old woman.

A walk down the fields and we bump into Geeta, whose husband owns an “agency”. “I hear it’s a shopping place but I am not keen to have a look. Are you looking for directions,” she asks disinterestedly, pointing in the direction of the building before sauntering off.

We wave down a man on a motorcycle. He is Angrez Singh, sporting natty sunglasses and peroxide blonde hair. “I am a TV artist,” he says, grinning. “Wal-Mart?” Now that, clearly, isn’t Angrez Singh’s area of interest and he looks lost for a second but quickly recovers his TV-star flourish. “It’s a mall and that’s what we call it,” he says before revving up and disappearing in a cloud of dust.