Within a stone's throw, the street market was a bustling panorama. Fragrances of flowers, henna and incense dissolved into the air, turning it subtly sweeter, mingling with the mouthwatering aroma of food. Vendors were vigorously stirring and rolling with every kind of utensil, blending and shoving enormous quantities of steaming hot snacks, slooshing them rapidly on paper plates and into bowls stacked on their counters.
The plates were grabbed by crowds of people waiting for their orders. Not only at the food stalls but also those selling wooden boxes, embroidered carpets or pashmina shawls, were equally packed with people. While some bought silver jewellery to take home as souvenirs, others bought assorted spices, dried fruits, apples, juices and sweets.
People were dressed in shimmery, festive apparel, and males' wrists were adorned with glittering ribbons and rakhis.
Had it been a typical day, only tourists would be seen swarming this market. But due to Rakshabandhan, today, it displayed a crowd of as many tourists as locals.
From children to adults, faces sparkled with spirits of festivity. Even the arms of soldiers and police officers posted throughout the market streets, for added security, had dazzling rakhis; some of which had been tied by their sisters and some by the local school girls.
Each year, the schools celebrated Rakshabandhan by making the students create, decorate and send rakhis to the soldiers who were symbols of patriotic brotherhood, protecting their country.
Rubeena and Heena had also crafted pretty rakhis from decorative materials and submitted these to their teachers.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة August Second 2023 من Champak.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك ? تسجيل الدخول
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة August Second 2023 من Champak.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
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