The din persists throughout the day, from the crack of dawn till well into the night. People, cars, autos and even trucks….going and coming non-stop like an ever shifting kaleidoscope. The old man drags his basket of bananas to a particular spot right outside the small temple. He insists on giving everybody a plastic bag. Couple of hours later, he’s gone unlike the middle aged woman sitting next to him, selling spices and what appear to be seeds in various containers spread around her.
A man comes with his cart, full of garlic and stands at a vantage point at the corner of a narrow lane. Not much sales today and in a few hours his place is empty….soon taken over by another cart full of colourful plastic toys. Suddenly he’s surrounded by eager mothers in ‘nighties’ rummaging through the cart. A couple of boys are talking and laughing at the ‘Xerox’ centre nearby comfortable in the chaos around.
The clouds suddenly let go and the strong winds make the raindrops fall at a thirty degree angle. The click of the umbrellas opening sound like somebody’s checking his drum-sticks before hitting the drums. Everybody’s umbrella is slanted at the same angle to shield themselves from the oncoming rain.
The day slows down to evening, and the shift in the wind direction unfurls the MNS flag which had wound itself around the flagpole in the daytime. The approaching night envelops everything in its darkness, cloaking all real life details in its mysterious fold. In the distance the twinkling lights of the airport bursts through, shimmering in the cold wetness around. An airplane slowly comes to a halt, its taillight still blinking red. A different world leaps out from that horizon, drawing you like a magnet….to the world of gloss, wealth, distant lands, important meetings and eagerly waiting families.
The lilting sound of a wind-chime floats out from somewhere. You can hear the wind blow. Then all is quiet.
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