The Poorna Market

November 23, 2013 at 9:54pm

                    

I  walked into the wide open market

-called the poorna market;

What I thought as the father of market places.

As I walked ,I listened,

 To two farmers talk

,about the grains that came out well this year,

And that the sales went high,

And are prospering without any fear;

 As I walked and walked,

I heard a fisherwoman;

Persuading me to buy some of her fish,

As the ones she has, could make out  an excellent dish.

As I walked and walked,

 I heard the clattering of pooja bells;

Tattering to the direction of wind

Enough to be heard by the one above

Enough to be used by one on a auspicious day

Praying for - wealth , studies and love.

On the other-side ,

I saw a man drawing people’s attention to buy his tomatoes;

Rich red tomatoes at fair prices-

 Compelling the kids to jump  and stand on their toes to watch the red juicy fruit being sold like hot cakes. 

I watched the crowd rushing and pooling by his shop like lice;

As I walked and walked,

I realized that the place is bigger than to put in a talk;

I proceeded-

Saw a commix of flowers and eateries

Ranging from roses of deep red

To brown bread;

All so mesmerizing and tantalizing;

I felt this place so enchanting;

I notice people loading-

heavy jute bag of goods bought from vendors;

There’s no one who hadn’t spent a penny at this centre.

I walked further-

I came across a burglar-

A kid not more than eight and not less than six;

stealing a couple of stuff with his naive tricks

-being chased by the owner and his mates with sticks;

Born of a poor father,

and an illiterate mother-

 having no one in the world,

an air fed creature of rags,

not knowing any rules and restrictions

-feelings of love and compassion towards another

are non-existent-

-follows his thoughts to satiate his grumbling stomach,

does things too incorrigible for human nature,

to calm his aching heart goes where his mind takes him,

ignorant of the road it leads to

whether its bright or dim.

I continued-

Pitiful for the kid who exposed to various miseries in the world;

The thoughts of the destitute

Soon vanished when the strong aroma o spices hit my nose;

There I sneezed ,I suppose;

“With pungent and  aromatic smell , we sell!”,the seller tells

Pepper , cinnamon or cloves-

All kinds of spices one loves;

I bought some even though I barely know their use;

but thinking that my mom can make a fantastic food;

Two hours went by ,I’m still in this heavy tide;

People come and people go;

But there is no lack in this store;

I walked and walked -

passed by a dog;

A mother of five-

serving cat meat killed some where near by;

This scene made me nauseous I turned the other way;

Continued my walk of the day

In another fifteen minutes,

 the endless road is going to end.

I tend to cherish this moments;

And wish that they blend,

Within heart of my admiration,

Saving a special place of exaltation towards it or it towards me.

 I remember the day ,once where I made my way-

into a wide open market-

called the poorna market.


                             -   KANNY