When I was small, Sunday used to be a grand affair to which I would look forward to with great gusto. Sunday mornings with entail a visit to the 'Bhopla Chowk'- the Market Place at Pulgate also known as the Khadda Market since it is placed in a huge khadda.
It would be a thrilling start to the morning watching mom haggle with the sellers which would make me wonder whether I'll ever be able to bargain with her finnese. The most delightful part of the outing would be when the sellers would present me with a jack fruit or a grape or a cut mango piece hoping that by enticing me with these goodies I would influence mom to do the needful of stocking up her fruit basket.
I remember being dead scared of the free-willed cows that used to totter around the market place. My heart would get set in my mouth while mom would be busy. I would keep one eye on her and another on the look-out for those terrible cows.
Once mom entrusted me with the responsibility of guarding a few heavy bags while she shopped some more. She left me at a corner and left. I was frightened without her. The cows seemed stranger that day. I looked up and down for mom but she still seemed very far away. One bag had all the greens stocked up in it and this proved to be a luring factor for the cows and before I could gather my wits and move out from there, 2 cows were near me and eating away at the spinach and the fenugreek bundles. I tried to shoo them away but my efforts did not bear fruit as they looked dangerous to me. They ate away the greens and went their way and left a very sorry faced kid with an empty bag. Mom didn't tell me anything. She knew that I tried in spite of being scared.
Over the years I quit being frightened anymore. I started viewing the cows with bemusement. They still roam about freely foraging for food out of bags. I'm careful now.
Last Sunday I paid a visit to the market after a very long time. Previously I'd started dreaded accompanying mom to the market as it would eat up into my valuable time of lazing around. But this time it seemed different. It was raining heavily, the market-place was slushy mixed with mud, rotten vegetables, dung, people and the perfect market racket. It was a typical Sunday at the market. Nobody bothered or cared though. Everybody was accustomed to it. People were just set on their job on hand. I counted each and every step I took.
The mango seller gave me a piece of mango to taste. The jack-fruit seller insisted that I eat his jack-fruit. I laughed at them and then at myself. I felt nice. It's nice that these things don't change.
It would be a thrilling start to the morning watching mom haggle with the sellers which would make me wonder whether I'll ever be able to bargain with her finnese. The most delightful part of the outing would be when the sellers would present me with a jack fruit or a grape or a cut mango piece hoping that by enticing me with these goodies I would influence mom to do the needful of stocking up her fruit basket.
I remember being dead scared of the free-willed cows that used to totter around the market place. My heart would get set in my mouth while mom would be busy. I would keep one eye on her and another on the look-out for those terrible cows.
Once mom entrusted me with the responsibility of guarding a few heavy bags while she shopped some more. She left me at a corner and left. I was frightened without her. The cows seemed stranger that day. I looked up and down for mom but she still seemed very far away. One bag had all the greens stocked up in it and this proved to be a luring factor for the cows and before I could gather my wits and move out from there, 2 cows were near me and eating away at the spinach and the fenugreek bundles. I tried to shoo them away but my efforts did not bear fruit as they looked dangerous to me. They ate away the greens and went their way and left a very sorry faced kid with an empty bag. Mom didn't tell me anything. She knew that I tried in spite of being scared.
Over the years I quit being frightened anymore. I started viewing the cows with bemusement. They still roam about freely foraging for food out of bags. I'm careful now.
Last Sunday I paid a visit to the market after a very long time. Previously I'd started dreaded accompanying mom to the market as it would eat up into my valuable time of lazing around. But this time it seemed different. It was raining heavily, the market-place was slushy mixed with mud, rotten vegetables, dung, people and the perfect market racket. It was a typical Sunday at the market. Nobody bothered or cared though. Everybody was accustomed to it. People were just set on their job on hand. I counted each and every step I took.
The mango seller gave me a piece of mango to taste. The jack-fruit seller insisted that I eat his jack-fruit. I laughed at them and then at myself. I felt nice. It's nice that these things don't change.
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