Certain roads in certain markets are bound to be full of rush throughout the day and more so after the sunset. In unplanned cities, such roads tend to grow narrower with time.
Talking about the road concerned, not the whole of it is lighted by streetlights and out of the few which perform this task, nearly half blink non-stop like the eyes of a little child subjected unknowingly to spicy hands.
But there is general indifference about this since people are busy in more important things; sellers in their sales and buyers in their purchases. In the narrow road, when two people on scooters come from the opposite sides, one has to stop at a nook for some moments until there is room enough for the other to pass, and in the meantime, footers have to wait. Cars do not come here; this bazaar is already quite infamous for its narrowness, which, nevertheless, has not eclipsed its utility in considerable economic activities.
Many wholesalers order supplies at this time, since the the retailers tend to come in the morning and afternoons. But still there are sporadic visits at this time, when hardly an hour is left before the lockdown is imposed.
The motorcycle man who all of a sudden enters out of nowhere is one such man. Upon looking at his vehicle, you can easily guesstimate he is a retail shopkeeper, come for some purchase. Tied to a support behind the rough but shiny black seat is a rope, supposedly to fasten the cartons the man is going to buy. He also carries a big cloth bag, presently hung on the left handle.
The man stops the vehicle in front of a wholesale cosmetics store and quickly disembarks, and in no time, with the keyring in his index finger, and the cloth bag in underarm, he is inside the store.
We see him return ten minutes later, with one of the store’s boys lugging with him a big, heavy, loaded carton. The man and the boy tie it to the seat as tightly as possible, and surprisingly, both go inside the store again.
The man appears two minutes later with his cloth bag filled now. He lifts the stand, grips the right handle, and following a swing of leg, perches on the seat of his motorcycle. Also, he hangs the bag on the left handle. This makes the handle a bit difficult to handle but the man manages to balance it.
As if this is not enough, the boy from the store pops out with another carton and asks the man. The man points with his eyes in front and the boy places the carton on the fuel tank, half of it resting automatically on the handle.
The man pushes the key into the hole, rotates it and kick-starts the vehicle. He accelerates a bit and retards when he is in the middle of the road. You can guess he is unable now to rotate the handle. There is the sound of a horn from behind, and the man takes no time to realise that eventually he is in a funny situation.
That when there is load on the handle and it is out of your handle, you will not be in a position to take your own direction.
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