The pavement was lined with more vendors, their wares set up on wooden wagons – at least they could not pursue us. But as we passed, the familiar cries followed. “Yes, have a look… You like? Nice shawls…” and with it, went my exasperating habit of feeling a duty to reply, to at least acknowledge these salesmen. “No thank you… No… Uh, no…” my head perpetually shaking, my nerves increasingly taut.
From Hyderabad / Cyberabad, by Claire