The Bazaar has a voice (only if we care to listen)

Bazaars are ubiquitous

They can spring up roadside or at designated places.

Some bloom on Sundays, some everyday and the others every evening.

The constant natural chatter barters knowledge, gossip, cross-talk with money

The many moods of a Bazaar

Markets have puzzled buyers throughout history and across continents. People often find themselves choosing, deciding, and haggling. It’s a long task- some scratch their heads , some itch their nether regions.

In some parts of the world, helmets are a part of daily shopping. Burstabdomen wonders if it is to hide their identity. Is it worn to protect oneself from inflation? Or is it there to stop oneself from pulling out hair in frustration?

The experienced seller more than often chills with a smoke – leaving the busybodies aside.

Tidy, neatly arranged wares without buyers provoked worried thoughts.

It’s not only the sellers- often a visitor can be within oneself – oblivious of the cacophony- lost in thought.

Some bazaars may be tidier than the rest – but the undercurrent of emotions are universal.

All the hustle and bustle makes everyone hungry – and nothing can be more gratifying than freshly baked bread and milk –

No one spares a thought for the porter whose back breaking job makes a market successful.

A bazaar’s success is measured in the weight of the returning customers’ bag

What does the Bazaar mean for you?

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