I spotted this woman deeply occupied in her work at a vegetable market. The vegetable market is a site that draws a lot of migrant workers. It is a part of the town that's seldom without activity: you can witness a sea of people buying and selling produce. The whole market is a giant and raw fugue of voices.
It was within this swirling waves of voices I saw this lady working on a sackful of round, white garlic bulbs. She wasn't bothered by the usual hustle and bustle of the market — she was impervious to it all. Her silent gaze was stable and fixed. Her experienced fingers moved with skill and precision.
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