The marketplace

As early as the birds chirping in,

When the city is yet to awaken in full swing,

There, in an inconspicuous corner of the road,

A weekly affair, different from the weekday mode,

Come Sunday, a day of leisure and rejuvenation,

For the office goers, a day sans much ado and perspiration,

Whereas, a day of business,

A means to boost the economy in every sense,

The farmers toiling through the week,

Coming with their freshly grown fruits and vegetables, it is fair price that they seek,

As one by one the vendors trickle in with their wares,

Some with spices, some with household utensils, some with pulses, some with meat, picked with much care,

A look of festivity descends in that modest place,

As each seller makes way to his space,

Arranging their articles with much care and precision,

Taking care to outdo their competitors, well that’s also their mission!

Carrots, spinach, apples, oranges, and other flora,

Their bright colours adding to the aura,

Enticing customers with lucrative deals and goods, 

One vendor wondering why another didn’t turn up with his fruits, 

As luck seemed to favour him every time he turned up with his produce,

Let me take up his place under the hood, that’s currently not in use,

Who knows,I might be as lucky,

Praying goodness, lest the situation turns murky,

Another vendor, beckoning a regular to be his first customer of the day,

Letting him not have his say,

Prodding him to purchase more than his regular share,

Assuring that the produce is fresh and the rates are totalled with due care,

As the Sun reaches its zenith,

Vendors protecting their produce, from its harshness, every precaution they taketh,

Finally, as last of their customers leave,

Wares get sold, satisfaction and smile on their face, a sigh of relief they heave,

Grudges amongst themselves they never hold,

As they welcome everyone in their fold,

Looking forward to a bountiful week, yet again next weekend,

As one by one, chattering they make their way outside, holding their hands, till the very end. 

P.S :- This is a take on the vibrant scenes from the marketplace happening on a weekly basis on different days in different parts of the city. It is called “Santhe” a.k.a, marketplace in the local tongue , Kannada, spoken in the southern state of Karnataka, India.


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Jezzie G

Poetry, stories, art, and music from the desk of Jezzie G

method two madness

a blog of two friends

writing in north norfolk

Writer of children's literature, short stories and poetry

Out of the Cave

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