Descriptive writing: The Street at Night

The wet, desolate streets of the city rested in silence as the starry black sky wept over it. The water in the portholes shimmered by the glow of the bright, yellow street lamps. The small, green trees on the roadside swayed as the strong breeze hit them.

Above a faded zebra crossing, a traffic light frantically changed colors seeming rather like a disco light. A watchman snored comfortably on his dark brown stool under the protection of his shops's roof. Huge giant buildings stood besides the street, quiet as if taken over by an army of libraries. Some windows gave out white and yellow lights, but the others were pitch black.

It seemed like the clouds had gotten a sudden fascination to the moon and wrapped themselves around it. The moon's faint glow passed through them, coloring them white from grey.

The cool monsoon air carried a sweet moist scent like a candy shop kept inside a refrigerator.

The pattering of the rain, which was now deaf to ears, was interrupted time by time during the night. Once a car passed by. Stray dogs began barking, while the deafening music from the car echoed around the street. The car soon disappeared and the dogs stopped barking satisfied that they had scared the car away. Later, a taxi came down the road and parked. A bunch of young kids came out laughing emphatically. The taxi drove away but the children stood at the corner of the lane, yet laughing vigorously. A man screeched out from his window and cursed at the noisy children who went mute immediately. A few lights flickered open through the windows and nosy neighbors looked out to inquire. Aunties made sure they had  memorized enough points to gossip over tomorrow. Finally the furious man went back and the children departed for home.

The streets of the city now rested again in lifeless silence except the gentle pattering of the raindrops. It lay there just like it had for many a changing years ready to rise when the sun's auburn rays would start to cast grey shadows over it.

Descriptive Writing: A busy Market

The Market

     The market roared with rage for it now was awake from its peaceful slumber. The shops were stuffed and street vendors made the street extremely narrow forcing people to walk in a straight file like soldiers going to battle.
Shops of all different species stood on either side of the street obediently. None of them had doors for the shopkeepers knew very well that the doors would not last long against the might, impatience, and violence of the customers. Herds of people climbed on top of each other at the counter of each shop yelling wildly like mindless monkeys brawling for a banana.
    Large tattered wagons decorated with a collage of vegetable were parked beside the street and their owners stood beside them screaming prices like auctioneers, but instead of a hammer, they had a carrot which they would use to wade of the flies pointlessly dancing around the vegetables.
    Sweaty buyers skilfully wove their way by locating minute gaps between people and squeezing through. Pickpockets felt like rabbits in a carrot field, and munched purses out of many pockets of innocent buyers too busy bargaining. Experienced visitors wore tight pants for the same reason.
    A helpless woman fumbled through the scores of bags she carried and tried to tick on a list with a pen clenched between her teeth.
    The sun warmed up the stuffy, stinking air which smelled of sweat and rotting fish. No air freshener could have defeated this sour, rancid stink which ruled over the cramped air here.
    The afternoon flamed the market an exhaustion and breathlessness silently approached the first time visitors, but he everyday buyers proudly held on against the torture of the market and kept shopping.
    The deafening chaos in the market made ears split as if you were standing under a giant speaker.Vendors yelled prices and frustrated housewives angrily argued with the annoyed shopkeepers. A nincompoop was trying to get his car across the market and carelessly honked to the river of people ahead completely ignoring him. It seemed as if all the sounds in the world had come to a reunion.
    The market was furious but seldom had anyone seen it while it slept. When a calm breeze swept over it and the crumpled paper lying below swept along. When the street was lifeless and silent as a graveyard. When the moonlight would faintly escape through the huddle of clouds draping the moon. When the market would lie there sleeping lightly ready to explode at the first sign of light. Seldom had people noticed this market's true beauty and enchantment. Older than the people in it was this market, and it lived like this everyday. With long forgotten secrets lying deeply buried in its roots and vast knowledge in its stem, it kept on living.