Market at two different times of the day

Hello reader, I believe that it is not only the quality of writing of the writer but the visualization, curiosity, imagination and interpretation of the reader that makes any piece of writing special and magical. So, thank you for deciding to read this descriptive writing written by me during my 10th grade. It describes a market at two different times of the day.

Market

The taupe, cobbled road slithered through the town of Bandra ; tattered carts and furnished shops aligned on both sides of the aisle. The market was seething with shoppers and their family.

 The bright eyed and bushy tailed shoppers skillfully wove their way, elbowing people and dodging the squalor street animals. I was engulfed by people that almost smothered me. It felt like all different types of human figures from a drawing book had come out to life; Ladies tugged in their purse underarm with kids in one hand and bags laden with items in another, vendors peeled off fruits and vegetables with agility, cyclists wriggled their way while a sluggishly moving car honked mindlessly and futilely to the overlooking public. Serpents of smoke diffused from the Chana masala stall, a sand-clock shaped wicker stand. The aroma of Chana stimulated my salivary glands.

 Like a smoke particle in Brownian motion, I was effortlessly dragged ahead into the denser market, where it was impossible to see ahead due to the sea of heads.

 The air was cramped with foul stench intensifying from the accretion of smells of sweat, rancid rotting fish, Acrid smoke from vehicles parked occasionally on the sides, aroma of fresh fruits and vegetables of myriad colors brimming in adjacent plastic cartoons, overapplied perfumes, overwhelming body odor, fetid water of the gutter and rotting veggies fallen below.

 A cacophony of sounds defined this place; Housewives squabbled about the colossal money vendors were “looting” for their “duplicate” and “worthless’ products that apparently “other shops offer for cheap”, vendors exhibited their products with their gift of gab to tickle people’s fancy in guttural voice, voracious eagles squabbled, kids bored to tears and what not. Vendors competitive screeching was so rapid and fleeting, none could catch and comprehend them. It was a total pandemonium.

 Seldom had anyone seen it in slumber; the naked road, strewn with litter, that rested after carrying the weight of everything, the wrinkled blue plastic that suffocated fruits and vegetables buried under it, the uninviting grey shutters, the deafening silence. The air had lightened itself from the smells, only the petrichor that was masked before now reigned the market and the only humming of crickets vibrated air in my hears.

 The stark contrast I felt being in the same place at different hours baffled me. The market which was buzzing with life every second like a heart pumping blood to every nook and corner of the body now seemed like a dead corpse with blood frozen in its vein.

Thank you for reading!

*comments and opinions are appreciated*