Sunday is a marketplace...

Sunday is a big market place...
At long winding queues heels  cool off...
At the bazar full of teeming crowd
Domestic minds shopping spree brace...
'two chicken legs'cries a fellow morning bazar goer...
With a big shopping bag by heaviness lowered
Almost to touch the pavement...
Another orders kilograms of sea fish...
Weighed on scales -a silver dish...
The vegetables green sprinkled fresh
Housemaids in floral Sunday dress...
Talk about foods fashion and brunch at friends...

Sunday is a big market place...
The plaza opens at three thirty one
Glassy facaded...escalatored...glitzy mall beckon
Headphoned young man with his pillion girl
Hair loosy bound in air unfurls...
Movie tickets perforated and cut
Leather sofas filled with popcorns in paper buckets burst...
Jeans and tees low and tight
By oneliners teasing sizzle bright...
'its my life...'
Sound bars shriek...
Icecream sandwich evolved OS
Cellphones carry bluetoothed whales
Evening of hedonism dip in pitchers and pails...
Sunday is surely a big market place...

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