The Subzi-Haat or simply the Haat is a place that simply radiates life. There is life in the cartloads of fresh vegetables which are soon going to infuse fresh energy into the systems of thousands of human beings. There is life in the hundreds of vegetable sellers who shriek at the top of their voices trying to attract customers to their vegetables. There is life in the enthusiasm with which neighbourhood aunties bargain for five rupees with the subzi wallah. There is excitement in the way that prices drop suddenly across the market because of the failings of a particular vegetable seller who himself is driven to desperation because of the fear of having to carry his goods back home; the life at the haat, incredibly increases as the time of market closure approaches with unbelievable deals being offered. There is life in my effort to locate that particular vegetable or fruit seller who sold me those capital radishes at that throwaway price last time and in my failure to do so among the sheer numbers.
The one-handed fumble for change(the other one is grasping a helmet or a bag), the painful long jostle through the crowds back to the car/bike with arms bursting from the weight of those two bulging shopping bags, the frustration of seeing peas at 12 rupees after buying at 15 rupees, the insincere consolation to your mind that yours must be the better peas, the impulse buying of the 12 rupee peas as well, the realization that your refrigerator and stomachs simply do not have the space to accommodate those bulging shopping bags: the subzi haat is an experience of life that not everyone steeped in the metro life might quite have either the chance or the inclination to savour.
P.S: The economic angle: The haat is the perfect example of perfect competition that economics tries to peddle. Demand meets supply and high prices directly hit sales. The prices are also such that everyone is able to participate thus leading to a much more realistic price discovery.