Descriptive Essay-A Day At The Fair

A Day at the Fair

Beneath the pink and purple sky of dusk, Mohan sat still, mesmerised as he watched his mother’s hand move, swiftly pushing the needle in and out of the red fabric. Even in the semi- darkness he could make out the tiny drops of tears rolling down her cheeks as her eyes strained for more light. But Rani couldn’t care less about them. Her hand continued to move rapidly, racing with the night. At last the hand came to a halt as she snipped the thread and stood up, holding out a red kurta in front of her like a trophy, her face beamed and her eyes twinkled like the stars in the inky sky. She beckoned Mohan and handed him the kurta. Mohan pressed the new outfit against his cheek which was still warm from his mother’s pleasant touch and asked her,

“My anklets look old” complained Asha.

“I will purchase a new statue of Krishna” murmured Radha.

The women continued their chatter while, the young boys brawled amongst themselves. They counted and recounted their little treasure from their pockets, not being able to decide who was more affluent than the rest. Nandu and Bharat had already exchanged several blows regarding this subject, creating quite a commotion and attracting a big crowd, until their fathers came to separate the two wretch, momentarily making the festive mood sour. But soon enough the excitement was reclaimed for nothing could dampen the spirits of the villagers today. It was the day of the fair.

The happiest amongst all was Mohan, the eight year old lad sporting a new red kurta was all set to go for the fair. His pyjamas were faded, his feet were bare, nor had his mother given him any money but these trivial thoughts did not bother him. He was happy as a lark skipping around, waiting impatiently for his friends to come by so that they could go together for the fair. He repeatedly asked his mother:

“Ma, have my friends come?”

“Ma, has the fair started?”

“Ma, did I miss the