Baazaar

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
This poem of mine is about shopping malls and the way people shop meaning how does the shopping environment look like in Quwtta, Pakistan which is my birthplace.

Submitted: February 01, 2016

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Submitted: February 01, 2016

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Baazaar

 

Streets bearing millions on its shoulders

Donkey carts, rickshaws, beggars, and soldiers

Prideless were those street beggars

Hanging by the cars like a web of spiders

The glamorous bazaar of my birth-town

People rushing up and down

Open shops yelling for customers since nine

Hanging rainbow clothes, and jewelry shine

Overflowing shopping malls with ladies

Husband holding crying babies

I pushed to get through them

Without any sorry or shame

I whinned to dad for goodies

After mom’s refusal of cookies

The noise of bargaining customers

That poor dealer suffers

Misplaced hundreds bought one

It just began not so done

He yelled miles for customers’ return

He hoped to earn

Shopped for hours beyond sunset shade

All happy and set



By: Mursal Koshani


© Copyright 2020 Mursal Koshani. All rights reserved.

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