The first soft ray of the golden yellow sun oozed across the turquoise sky. As I stepped out of the car
and walked down the street the market roared with rage for it now was awake from its peaceful
slumber. The shops were stuffed and street vendors made the street extremely narrow forcing people
to walk in a straight file like soldiers going to battle.
I crinkle my nose at the smell then I realize, if I had to pass my test, I'll have to act like I am used to
the smell. Parents were gripping hold on their infant's hands, moving in all directions, pushing,
shoving; fearing that they might be separated and lost. Everything is changing, constantly shifting
form. The deafening chaos did somehow keep sustained. One thing I awe of these places is how it
exists despite the rapid information and technology development of our civilizations, fulfilling its
primary historical reason - the exchange of between buyer and seller.
Shops of all different species stood on either side of the street obediently. None of them had doors
for the shopkeepers knew very well that the doors would not last long against the might, impatience,
and violence of the customers. Herds of people climbed on top of each other at the counter of each
shop yelling wildly like mindless monkeys brawling for a banana.
Large tattered wagons decorated with a collage of vegetable were parked beside the street and their
owners stood beside them screaming prices like auctioneers, but instead of a hammer, they had a
carrot which they would use to wade off the flies pointlessly dancing around the vegetables.
Sweaty buyers skilfully wove their way by locating minute gaps between people and squeezing
through. Pickpockets felt like rabbits in a carrot field and munched purses out of many pockets of
innocent buyers too busy bargaining. Experienced visitors wore tight pants for the same reason.
A helpless woman fumbled through the scores of bags she carried and tried to tick on a list with a
pen clenched between her teeth.
My eyes grew wide with excitement as I looked through the smooth glass window of the wedding
dress shop. Laid out in full view was a vast display of different exquisite dresses. As I walked past the
fishmonger's briny bouquets in ice and salt, plain whiffs of blood and the putrid smell of decomposed
fish assaulted my nostrils. The butcher store adjoining it was no comfort either and by that time, I felt
awfully sick.
The sun warmed up the stuffy, stinking air which smelled of sweat and rotting fish. No air freshener
could have defeated this sour, rancid stink which ruled over the cramped air here.
The afternoon flamed the market exhaustion and breathlessness silently approached the first time
visitors, but the everyday buyers proudly held on against the torture of the market and kept shopping.
The deafening chaos in the market made ears split as if you were standing under a giant speaker.
Vendors yelled prices and frustrated housewives angrily argued with the annoyed shopkeepers. A
nincompoop was trying to get his car across the market and carelessly honked to the river of people
ahead completely ignoring him. It seemed as if all the sounds in the world had come to a reunion.
The market was furious but seldom had anyone seen it while it slept. When a calm breeze swept
over it and the crumpled paper lying below swept along. When the street was lifeless and silent as a
graveyard. When the moonlight would faintly escape through the huddle of clouds draping the moon.
When the market would lie there sleeping lightly ready to explode at the first sign of light. Seldom had
people noticed this market's true beauty and enchantment. Older than the people in it was this
market, and it lived like this every day. With long-forgotten secrets lying deeply buried in its roots.
"Argh!" screamed my friend as the water balloon hit her full in the face. She stood in shock for a moment before charging
after me, laughing and yelling out threats.
We were at our annual class party and having the time of our lives. This year, we had decided on the picnic at the beach.
After eating, we had all sorts of games and competitions. I could not remember when I had last enjoyed myself so much.
However, all good things must come to an end, and as it neared evening, we started preparing to leave. I was supposed
to walk the short distance to my aunt's house after the party. About halfway there, I remembered that I had left a T-shirt
on the beach. I debated whether or not to return for it as I could see dark clouds heading my way. However, the shirt was
an old favourite of mine and I was so wet from the water balloons that a little more water would not make a difference.
The beach was now deserted. I looked around for my T-shirt, but it was nowhere to be found. Finally, after minutes of
fruitless search, I gave up. The sky was dark, with thick thunderclouds and it had begun to drizzle. I started heading back.
Then, suddenly, with a loud crash of thunder, the heavens burst, and torrents of rain came pouring down. Holding my
backpack over my head in an effort to ward off the relentless blows of the rain, I scanned the area for a place of refuge.
Finally spotting a tiny shack at a distance, I dashed for it. I reached it at last and darted in, drenched to the bone and
shivering from head to toe. As I shook out my hair, I mentally kicked myself for getting into this situation.
Wondering when the rain would stop, I stared out at it, dejectedly. As I gazed, however, my feelings of dejection turned
into awe. The black clouds hung low. The sea was turbulent, with powerful waves crashing onto the shore. On the left,
where jagged boulders stood in the sea, the waves threw themselves on them, sending up sprays of seawater high into
the air. Gust after gust of howling wind blew through the trees. Lightning streaked across the sky, time and again, lighting
up the whole scene for a split second each time.
I stood transfixed, captivated by the power and violence of the storm. It was beautiful, scary and magnificent at the same
time. I felt I had to be part of it, to be at one with nature.
I ran out and stood in the middle of the storm, revelling in the stinging rain and chilling wind, thrilling to the sounds of the
thunder and the crashing waves, and relishing the magnificence of nature. Wedge in its stem, it kept on living.