at a village fair...

Riding his bike as usual...
Somehow he reached a village fair...one wintry evening...
Yellow lamps hanging from wooden poles gave the fair a distinct festive look...
And the village folk in humble dresses...oily heads...thronged every nook and corner of the field
In which several makeshift tents were set up...

He gazed at the wares being sold...earthen pots...simple wooden kitchen tools-wooden spatulas...
Wooden flat round shaped boards and barrel-like artifacts...used usually for kneading doughs and making chapatis...paper-thin...
Glass bangles in another stall...
Bangles as varied in shapes and designs as feminine faces, so varied and charming!
Bangles red, yellow, white, purple, green...
Bangles made of wood even!

He looked around with his eyes-
Not curious but full of curiosity...
How simple people of the village gather at a humble fair...with their children and wives and women...
Weren't they full of mirth and gaiety?
Weren't they pleased and wonder struck by simple things?

Then he looked at his expensive bike standing a few paces apart...
Two hundred cc engine...with all muscle power...
Switch-type ignition...
Oil filled suspension...
Digital tachometer...burning blue fluorescent!

Then he looked at his shoes
Branded, freshly bought from a mall selling brand equity...

Then he looked at his soul
Such a commodity, so cheap!

At the village fair...
He rediscovered his forgotten self...
He thought he got rid of hedonistic illusions
Which come wrapped in malls
In shapes of colored paperbags and designer elements...





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