The city was Agra, the city of Taj Mahal and Agra Fort. The market was local market.Customers and hawkers were selling and buying things in frenzy. The time was just before Diwali. Road side vendors had spread colored sheets of clothes on the roadside and on their stalls and packed it with colorful clay idols of Lord Ganesh and Goddess Laxmi.
Clay culptures were everywhere in vibrant colors. Birds, animals, Gods and Goddesses and these beautiful village women! The women were adorned in multicolored contrast attire, no two sculptures looked alike, and each one had a personality of her own, their eyes telling a different story, their curves revealing different hands which must have shaped them.
Each sculpture had an earthen pot over her head symbolizing the container for water and a little child on their waist, silver glitter sparkling in the afternoon sun on their lehngas and silver colored jewelry adorning their necks, ankles, waist and wrists. They were being sold in pairs as if the vendor didn’t want the ladies to leave his stall without a companion.
Theywere irresistible. It seems, sometimes, the simplest of things in the most unexpected places can leave one long for them as if they were something extraordinarily valuable.
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