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Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Twilight in the street of storytellers
It’s evening when we set out for Peshawar’s famous Kissa Khawani – the street of storytellers. It’s that time of the day when the stars are in purgatory, slowly waiting as daylight fades. We walk through a lane full of shops selling dry fruits, and in one of them my friend chooses kishmish from Iran over kishmish from Afghanistan. We take another lane, in which all kinds of colourful baubles and trinkets hang. The day changes. It’s peaceful.
The lights in the shops have started to come on, but the streetlights remain off. We reach a vegetable market, a bit of a curiosity in this land of meat-eaters. Hawkers sit under suspended polythene sheets that act as the boundary between daylight and nightlight.
Then daylight’s gone, and so are we.
The lights in the shops have started to come on, but the streetlights remain off. We reach a vegetable market, a bit of a curiosity in this land of meat-eaters. Hawkers sit under suspended polythene sheets that act as the boundary between daylight and nightlight.
Then daylight’s gone, and so are we.
