In India fairs are so common that it is impossible to retain distinct impressions of any. But the Sitamarhi fair is still so vivid to my memory that all the sights and sounds I witnessed that day came flocking to me.
It is perhaps the best attended fair in my life. All sorts of people attend the fair. The beggars in their rags line the route to it on both sides and solicit our charity in many ways.
We pity the blind beggar, because he is deprived of his eyesight. And we cannot ignore the criple either.
The leper shunted by every body is there and pauper also fits to and fro like a ghost. The beggars alone, however, do not constitute the crowd.
Take your stand near the shrine and watch the crown surging backwards and forwards.
You will see a young rustic elbowing feeble old man. The gaily decked bride is offering prayers for the birth of a child, while the woo bygone widow is praying for the return of her long lost son.
The fat merchant is happy and busy in distributing alms to the beggars out of rich profits he has made this year, but that educated young man is morose, because he has recently been retrenched.
The school boys, with their merry and carefree faces are idly loitering round shrine, while the girls are standing apart in the shade of grove tree.
A writer has said that the sight of a how always impresses his mind like a draught of wine.
To be sure, the sight of a crowd assembled at an Indian scene exhilarates a person in spite of the noise and the dust that the people raise.
Just take a walk through the temporary bazar that forms the chief attraction of the fair.
A company of strolling players has also pitched its tent there though admission to their performance is by tickets.
There is travelling circus too admission to which is also by tickets costing one rupee each.
Here is a confectioner, displaying his feast to the best advantage and tempting the passersby to purchase something or the other. More are the peddlers wanting in anything.
They lustily cry their wares-pins, brooches, bangles and other trinkets. You cannot visit many fairs in India without coming across the village acrobat.
He is a professional to his finger tips. He has all the chatter and all the style of a man who has been born to the business.
And the feats he performs are proof that he is by no means without considerable skill. You wonder how he manages to twist his body into such wonderful shapes.
You whisper in amazement this fellow is altogether without bones. You wonder and wonder and he goes on performing.
It is something miraculous the agility of twisting his little body into every possible shape.
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Essay on Village Fair in English
Once I went to Delhi for a walk. I came to know that there is an international trade fair in Pragati Maidan there.
In fact a huge gaseous balloon was strung across the sky to advertise the fair. On which the trade fair was written in big words.
Village Fair Essay in English village fair essay I also had the idea of watching the fair. I reached Pragati Maidan with my friend.
There were many gates to enter the trade fair. There was a long row of ticket takers outside the gate I went through.
That line was very disciplined. That’s why I got a chance to enter my friend soon. The main gate and passage were decorated with various artistic decorations.
We saw many thick names from far away – Assam, Madhya Pradesh, Delhi, Haryana, Kerala, Japan, America etc.
While walking I reached a pavilion. It was the pavilion of Germany. It showed the progress of that country with various modern decorations.
On going further, there was a small building in which exhibitions of clockwork from all over the world were put up.
I was surprised to see the pavilions of various watch rooms inside. One to one best quality timepiece clock, and wristwatches charmed the mind.
I also bought an alarm clock. My friend bought a wristwatch. After going ahead for some time, I got a chance to see the Kerala Pavilion.
It was a very attractive pavilion. On seeing the scene of the fair, it was as if the whole of Delhi had come ready.
The roads of Pragati Maidan, spread over many miles, had become colorful on the evening of dusk. Surprisingly, there is no stampede, no noise, but such slow motion, as in the evening, the sea is taking waves in fun.
I loved everything. Then night struck. Me and my friends walked to the gate to return. Seen ahead thousands of people are standing at a high place.
It turned out that a drama-company was playing a drama. The same saw a very long line in which the fashion-show desirous people stood up to take tickets.
My mind did not move away from there. When somehow reached out, looked again at the trade fair. A fair shining in the light stood like a bride.
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