Descriptive essay of a crowded bazaar​

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.

Ithing 2. skznzbzbxbz zb