Market Scenes

So, why are there no pictures? Because, where I live, the mentality of the people is such that it cannot be captured in the freeze-frame of the photo, it spills out beyond it in so many ways. One can take pictures in nature here, but of the people, of "scenes" - this is left better to the word, for the word has a special connection with the imagination; the magic of saying "chair" (wink to Wittgenstein) and all the possibilities that such a word presents.

Even when I have so much work to do, I still go to the market almost every day - something which may also be the result of having a Barbie-sized fridge. And while I might set out as a bag of nerves, I always unwind in the labyrinthical lanes between the stalls - whether through saying, "hi grandpa" to my favourite potato vendor, and listening to whatever his reply might be, such as "child, look at how few people come to the market these days," or, by watching how various vendors try to rip me off, which, of course, within reason, really doesn't bother me - especially if it is their farm, or whether it is the degree and variety of colours on sale, which are especially bright at this time of year. Peppers - big, small (the mildly hot ones), light in colour, almost ivory green, Punch-shaped, all the better for stuffing; apricots - in swirls of mustard yellow and firehouse red; stalky greens - I come away from the market refreshed, even renewed.

Today, as I was buying chicken, the granny in front of me had a particular request: the cheapest chicken sausage for cats. "No, not that one, something cheaper." And, as people here have extra-developed awareness senses, she knew I was listening, and began her monologue, though not to me per se, but just by way of explanation: I am going to the weekend house, there are three cats there, that actually belong to the neighbours...

And as I have always been fascinated by the glimpse of other people's home interiors one can see from the street, and similarly-themed magazines, such a snippet stayed with me, and led to the writing of this post. There are so many different lives and experiences, even within a ten-metre radius from where one lives. And I am really glad for that market, which takes me out of myself when all I am doing is buying lunch.

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