Jose John April 4, 2016 No Comments
A WEEKLY MARKET DAY Don’t rush. Drive slow. See that baby crossing the road, cried my sister. The driver slowed down the jeep. We were on the highway from Ranchi to Raigarh. But now at Patratoli that highway was overflowing with human beings of all ages-men, women, old and young-little chil­dren running on the road as if it was the courtyard of their house; and little babies trying to jump out of the laps of their mothers. I had seen weekly markets at different places. But the one at Patratoli-about half a kilometer long-as if a big regular market had come down on the roadside to be at the reach of the Vanavasis (the tribal’s). Toys and toys and toys-all indigenous toys of wood, paper machie, bamboo and even of stones. A three-wheel walkie for the kid to learn walking-a bird that would whirl in the atmosphere on a string-small wood toys-a whole platoon of soldiers with guns, a complete band for the occasion of the marriage of your doll. The whole transport system-buses, trains, jeep, cars aero planes, ships and boats all are there to suit everyone’s pockets. At a little distance you will find an enthusiastic young man exhibiting some mechanized toys too. A three bogie Calcutta...
read more