| inbluevt | Date: Tuesday, 2013/08/06, 9:19 PM | Message # 1 | DMCA |
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Sampat’s patio overlooks Bisanda Road—so called because it leads to the nearby town of Bisanda—which is one of the main thoroughfares in Atarra. The haphazardly arranged town, with a population of 10,700, is still largely undeveloped: part rural village, with its pockets of simple mud huts. The traffic on Bisanda Road is composed of trundling, garishly painted trucks, tricycle rickshaws with their steel bells ringing, wandering cows, and people carrying produce in woven palm-leaf
baskets carefully balanced on their heads. A low cloud of dust, kicked up by this endless to-and-fro, hovers perpetually over the ground.
On winter mornings, mist often lingers on the far end of the street outside Sampat’s office, and the air is scented by the acrid smell of burning plastic waste, garbage bonfires being a means of both rubbish
disposal and heat generation during the dreary winter months. The street scene in front of Sampat’s office is as bleak as the smell. The boxlike brick homes and family-run stores on Bisanda Road resemble auto workshops, despite the fact that the buildings are painted in a cheery assortment of pastel colors: mint green, powder blue, and candy-floss pink. All these crude, windowless structures have metal shutters running down the front of them, adorned with hand-painted advertisements for
unglamorous products such as Fevicol, India’s largest brand of adhesives. Every morning, these shutters rumble upward and reveal small stores selling plastic tubes for irrigation, tractor tires, and plywood.
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Message edited by inbluevt - Tuesday, 2013/08/06, 9:21 PM |
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