Sunday Market

 

SUNDAY MARKET

 

Author- SHRIYANS SACHITH

 

Not exactly what I would want on a Sunday late morning but Mummy just asked me out and I obliged.

The errand was to help her on her weekend marketing and me being me was always up for a challenge. Bright sunny day and my off day but since it was mummy's request I couldn’t refuse. I got myself a sweat whisking outfit.

As me and mummy approached the market, the vehicles parked randomly at the entrance was only an indication of things to come.

Thatched roofs, vegetables and fruits shining bright and the wily vendor at his wits end bargaining. It was a war zone to say the least.


The purple brinjals sat next to radiant tomatoes and formed center-stage while the drumsticks poked at the cucumbers on the wooden planks set up by the vendor. The potatoes and onions were banished to the far corner of the display and looked unhappy about the treatment meted out.

People of all sizes and clothing were present and some were arguing about how that potato didn’t actually look classy enough to cost that much. I looked at the hapless potato and moved along.

Most vegetables looked distraught and dead already but we humans had a price to place on all I thought.

After witnessing a brief interaction of Mummy with the vendors I realised whatever is quoted as a price was only temporary. As the price war continued, the vendor only relented and conceded. The onion which intially cost rupees 60 was won at rupees 58. Mummy was almost at her victory parade.

Most of the buyers were eager to land that elusive bargain. A large lady in her bermudas almost made me a chutney ingredient but for the timely intervention of my mummy.

With our non-plastic bags filled to the brim it was time to beat the retreat. We held ourheads high as victors of the vicious duel.

The tomato was won at a rupee less to the kilo and nothing else mattered to me and mummy even though I had a suspicion that the vendor was just chuckling away at his profit none the less.

 



 Weekend markets and the diaspora it brings to witness is something to be seen to believe. The stone weights with markings, the exchange of pleasantries, the bargaining, the rush, the constant taunts by the vendors to buy more, all presented to me as a complete experience.

Lessons presented in life as an experience had no parallel and I was only getting prepped for more.

No. of Words -- 408

 

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