Market

     YeahWrite’s Weekly Writing Challenge #388

Lord Surya doesn't smile on a September day on the island city. But today ,

India's financial capital is fortunate to bask in the warmth. Me and he took  

our bags and stepped out. The lanes were generously muddy. I stepped 

gingerly on the stones so as not to allow the luxury of sinking my full weight on 

the wet path. The path ended sooner than I expected. It was because of the 

good weather, he reasoned.

I stepped on the paved area of the market and my eyes feasted on the array of 

colourful veggies spread on polythene sheets on the ground and another sheet 

kept in abeyance least Ma Varsha plays spoilsport.

Each seller was drawing attention to every buyer to hawk her/his wares. The 

buyers took their own time to see, assess and decide to buy from the umpteen 

sellers. It was clearly a free market , the forces of demand and supply 

interacting. I imagined how the same forces would behave on the global arena. 

The ridge gourds , bitter-gourds, French beans, Cluster beans happily co-

existed side-by-side each waiting for its turn to end up in a house-wife's 

kitchen. The ripe tomatoes lay asking me for the warmth of my shopping bag. 

The lemons reminded me of the lack of Vitamin C in my body. The bunch of Dill 

leaves spread a smile on my face and I smiled back at its tenderness. The 

farmer's wife sensing my affinity for greens pulled out the most tender bunch , 

teasing and cajoling me shop and fill her coffers. The Spinach bunch too 

beckoned me to bring my old recipe of Paneer(cottage cheese)  Palak (spinach) 

from oblivion . My taste buds already on an overdrive. Both the bunches landed 

in my kitty. The Colocasia leaves were wrapped and tucked into the bag. 

Moringa's leaves(drumstick leaves) reposed in the corner and my 

mind in ' should I or shouldn't I buy' dilemma, voted on buying the next time. 

My heart was relieved. The Madras aubergines were already in the 

picture of my mind , being chopped and shallow  fried in the wok eagerly 

waiting to the coated with Indian spices. Junior would be happy eating his 

favorite dish. The cucumbers and carrots were weighed and deposited in my 

bag. My family's quota of roughage was taken care off for a week. Many more 

veggies were tempting to buy but my bag was already bursting  at its seams 

and screaming not to burden it further. I asked the farmer's wife to settle the 

bill. She verbally spelt out the prices of each variety of vegetable and asked me 

to add it up. I questioned her inability  to deal with Math. She shied behind her 

handkerchief. I teased her if I  cheated and paid her less. This time she lowered 

the piece of cloth from her face and accompanied with peals of giggles said that 

her tryst with numbers was bad but she was good at distinguishing people. She 

further reiterated  her faith in good Karma. The veggies at the Farmer's Market 

were tender, organic and chemical free and so was her heart. 

             I was touched by her simplicity in this masked world.