Normally at this point of time every year, I would be euphorically strolling each and every shop of the old city market, amidst the jingle of “aiye aiye readymade silk, banarasi, cotton saree chaniya dreyyyysss lelo” playing in the background coming from all the sides. Struggling to hold(read: protect) our handbags from pickpocketers or rather our vain efforts to avoid forgetting bags at random shops; me and Mummy would atleast visit the old city market atleast 5-6 days during the last evenings before Eid and devour the street food bringing home the sour-little-nothings with a tinge of chaat masala stuffed in our pockets.
The old city has its own charisma, its own aura. The smell of grilling tikkas, freshly baked patisseries, the cacophony of hawkers and the rixawallas is the trademark of our hometown. And with Eid round the corner, its a cherry on the top. You can never miss shopping here. You come to buy a thing and you end up buying a dozen. Cheap thrills💕
But this year it will be different, just like all other longitudes and latitudes of our planet. Streets are empty. Old city is cold, cold with silence. I lay here in astronomical attire wondering about my empty wardrobe at home. Eidi this year would truly be the duas and blessings for the pandemic to end soon.