The women competed with each other to make themselves heard- bargaining, arguing- trying to strike the best and most profitable deal- they had to, after all make profit, that was what dealing was all about- getting the best at the lowest possible price.
They were all a part of that game-the game of give and take. This was a marketplace- and everything out here was for sale.
Everything here worked by way of economics- commodities were in demand and so they were to be bought, at a price though, which had to be paid. And after using the commodity, it was to be thrown away. After all, in the world of economics, nothing was permanent, everything had a shelf life. It was a world of practicality.
But then, this small world of the market was a part of a much bigger world, where people were commodities, in demand. There were many consumers, and the supply too was aplenty. There was a dearth of economics going on in the world- trade of people, trade of emotions, and trade of skill. Emotions too had a place. Your emotions were of use to harness the cycle of creativity. Your emotions were of use when they needed your sympathy, your love. But then your emotions were not to act as a barrier, when your role was over, you were not to stick to them all your life. Your life to them was over once you were all used up, now you were dead to them. Such was the trade of humans in the market of the world. Everything has a use, but there is a shelf life to everything too. Death is natural and there is nothing called as fear or eternity.
I was jolted awake from my thought process from the most unexpected sound in such a commotion. I followed it and my eyes found the source. His expression was dreamy and his eyes spoke of a passion. His voice was not loud, nor was it too soft, it was a voice that didn’t want to be heard and a voice that knew it will be heard. I went in front of him, entranced by the presence of this simple man, expressing his tender emotions in the midst of a place where harshness was prevalent and where the screams of others could drown his humming. But he was passionate, draped in the magic strum by him on his six stringed love.
“That is great- I mean- that is amazing.”
He looked up at me with surprise. And then he smiled- a smile of joy and satisfaction.
“Thanks. I love this you know.”
I nodded. I knew it, because he was not giving anything nor did he get anything. He was just here doing something that he just loved to do. And in that, there was no trade, though all this was happening in a marketplace.
They were all a part of that game-the game of give and take. This was a marketplace- and everything out here was for sale.
Everything here worked by way of economics- commodities were in demand and so they were to be bought, at a price though, which had to be paid. And after using the commodity, it was to be thrown away. After all, in the world of economics, nothing was permanent, everything had a shelf life. It was a world of practicality.
But then, this small world of the market was a part of a much bigger world, where people were commodities, in demand. There were many consumers, and the supply too was aplenty. There was a dearth of economics going on in the world- trade of people, trade of emotions, and trade of skill. Emotions too had a place. Your emotions were of use to harness the cycle of creativity. Your emotions were of use when they needed your sympathy, your love. But then your emotions were not to act as a barrier, when your role was over, you were not to stick to them all your life. Your life to them was over once you were all used up, now you were dead to them. Such was the trade of humans in the market of the world. Everything has a use, but there is a shelf life to everything too. Death is natural and there is nothing called as fear or eternity.
I was jolted awake from my thought process from the most unexpected sound in such a commotion. I followed it and my eyes found the source. His expression was dreamy and his eyes spoke of a passion. His voice was not loud, nor was it too soft, it was a voice that didn’t want to be heard and a voice that knew it will be heard. I went in front of him, entranced by the presence of this simple man, expressing his tender emotions in the midst of a place where harshness was prevalent and where the screams of others could drown his humming. But he was passionate, draped in the magic strum by him on his six stringed love.
“That is great- I mean- that is amazing.”
He looked up at me with surprise. And then he smiled- a smile of joy and satisfaction.
“Thanks. I love this you know.”
I nodded. I knew it, because he was not giving anything nor did he get anything. He was just here doing something that he just loved to do. And in that, there was no trade, though all this was happening in a marketplace.
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