My Experience with Avee Gandhi and How Respect was Replaced by Arrogance

There are mornings when I arrive at my small  storefront full of purpose — a Pakistani-Muslim self-represented business owner, serving my Brampton community with heart and striving to build something meaningful. Every day I remind myself that even in this world of greed and ego, there is still room for honesty, compassion, and hard work.

But one morning, that belief was shaken to its core.

What unfolded outside my storefront wasn’t just about a parking spot — it was a reminder of how power, pride, and class arrogance can still crush decency right in front of our eyes.

A Morning That Changed My Faith in Fairness

It was an ordinary day until Mr. Avee Gandhi, a fellow unit owner in the plaza 2nd level, parked his vehicle directly in front of my store’s entrance for the entire working day 11AM to 8pm — roughly nine to ten hours.

That spot, just steps from my storefront entrance, is the only space my customers use for quick visits — people who stop by for four or five minutes to pick up food or essentials. For ten years, no other unit owner in the plaza had ever done this.

I walked out calmly and spoke politely.

“Sir, this space is for my customers — could you please park somewhere else if you’re staying
all day?”

Instead of courtesy, he raised his phone and started recording me. With a smirk, he asked:

“Does this parking spot have your name on it?”

Those words weren’t innocent. They were loaded with disrespect. The way he looked at me, the tone in his voice — it wasn’t about parking. It was about status, class, and control.

The message was clear:
“You’re not equal to me. You’re beneath me. I’ll do what I want.”

The Weight of Humiliation

I felt small. I felt powerless. I felt invisible in my own commercial unit.

Here I was — a business owner who pays a mortgage, pays property taxes, and gives back to the community through donations — being mocked and recorded as if I were a nuisance on my own property.

In that moment, I wasn’t just facing a man with a camera. I was facing the entire idea that those with wealth or power believe they are untouchable, that they can treat others however they please without consequence.

This wasn’t just about a car or a camera. It was about dignity — something no human being should have to beg for.

When I Tried to Resolve It — He Chose Threats

After that unpleasant incident, I tried to move forward peacefully.

I wrote him a polite email hoping to resolve things in good faith, as one business owner to another.

His reply shocked me.

Instead of accountability or apology, he responded with arrogance, insults, and legal threats:

“Firstly I would like you to stop misrepresenting and twisting the facts… If you had asked me politely, I would have politely moved my car… You don’t have the right nor do you have the power to question me or abuse me for this… I will be taking further actions on this — legal actions too if it may come to that… And if we ever have any sort of physical or verbal interactions, I will be recording it for myself and my legal team.”

Even in writing, he showed the same sense of superiority that I felt in person. No empathy. No responsibility. No understanding of how humiliating his actions were. Just control, intimidation, and entitlement.

Power Without Morality

It is not uncommon for the powerful to hide behind money and titles in Brampton, Ontario, but what hurts most is when they lack even the decency to acknowledge the pain they cause.

When someone who holds influence in the community treats another business owner with arrogance and contempt, it speaks volumes about their character.

This is not about religion, ethnicity, or rivalry. It’s about basic human respect — something money cannot buy and power cannot command.
If a man can treat a peer this way in public, imagine how easily he could look down on someone with less — someone simply trying to make an honest living.

The Deeper Message

This isn’t just about one man or one encounter.

It’s about how the system protects arrogance, how small business owners and working-class people are often silenced — not because they’re wrong, but because they’re out-numbered and out-powered.

I’ve spent years fighting unfairness in the courts. I’ve seen how truth gets twisted by those with better lawyers, louder voices, or higher connections.

And yet, I’ve also learned this:

Silence is what the powerful want most.

They depend on people like us staying quiet. They rely on our exhaustion, our fear, and our shame.

But I will not stay quiet.

Because the same mindset that allows someone to record and mock a small business owner is the same mindset that allows them to abuse their position of privilege — to believe rules and decency apply to everyone except themselves.

Standing Up for Dignity

I am writing this for every small business owner, every minority immigrant, and every person who has been dismissed, talked down to, or made to feel like they don’t belong.

If they can ignore a shopkeeper in his own plaza, they can ignore the rights of families seeking help, justice, or fairness.

Respect doesn’t cost money. Dignity doesn’t need permission.

When someone tells you, “You don’t matter,” look them in the eye and remind them that you do.

My Final Words

So yes — I am writing this not just for me. I am writing this for everyone who has ever been told to “stay quiet.”

For everyone who has faced arrogance, humiliation, or abuse of power and had no one to defend them.

This isn’t defamation — this is truth told through lived experience.

And truth cannot be guilty.

If you’ve felt the same, don’t let it die in silence. Speak. Write. Stand tall.

Because the only thing more powerful than money or status is courage — and the courage to tell
your story.