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2011-12-05 조회수 : 1950 |
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A few days before Christmas, Oxford street is swarming with last minute shoppers, laden with parcels and bags. Christmas is the highlight for many people, especially little childen, from as tall as your ankle to as tall as your knee. Small todlers were moaning and disappearing into the clothes racks like magicians disappearing in a puff of smoke entertaining the gullible audiences.
Families and friends gradually emerge from clogged buses and congested trains, tired, exhausted and hungry even at this very early stage, as if they had spent the whole night awake, like a distressed parent waiting for their child to arrive home from a party but has still not arrived, two hours past their curfew.
Oxford Street is the main high street of the whole of England. It flocks many tourists, as though it has a force or power, just like opposite ends of a magnet attract one another. Oxford street is as long as I can possibly imagine; it is 10 time longer than any local high street and is as wide as six elephants put together. Oxford Street contains a lot of various shops which other high streets have, plus some extra. It is as if Oxford street encloses a immeasurable proportion of England as it has a great deal of stores; some immense while some petite. It’s not restricted - even Regents Street is much more genteel like a magnificent pet and Bond Street is tremendously aristocratic like a diamond engagement ring and only the posh shop there.
Oxford Street is one maze, with all sorts of mystical secrets to be uncovered and adventures to be explored and experienced. It is one colossal, huge, extensive, perpendicular road with a range of exits leading to places, no one knows. It is surrounded with shops enclosing a selection of bits and pieces to go well with every individual, just like a ‘Celebrations’ chocolate box containing an assortment of chocolates to go with any human being.
The street is coated with a thick layer of snow, knee length, which was as soft, and as smooth as a fresh scoop of vanilla ice-cream. The snow was as white as the marzipan on a wedding cake, smooth as glass, flat as a pancake and beautiful as the wings of a butterfly opening for its first time.
Along the street, above the distressed shoppers, was a sea of decorations, of all colours, simultaneously changing, on and off, to the rhythm of my feet, whilst ambling through the streets of Oxford. The Christmas lights were shaped in all kinds of shape you could possibly imagine and they were so bright that the twinkle in the lights glistened on the icing floor as though it was a star. It also shimmered on the shoes, which men were wearing.
The combination of the snow and the Christmas lights makes me feel as though I was entering another world full of amusement, ecstasy and anticipation as Christmas draws in.
The atmosphere is pleasant, though everybody seems to be distressed and having problems on their minds, as though they were carrying the weight of the whole, entire world on the shoulders. The shops are warm and snug after coming in from the cold outside. The feeling of a holiday coming up puts individuals in a ebullient, friendly, cheerful frame of mind.
All the shops are filled with shoppers buying things from Christmas pies and Christmas crackers to twenty-two carrot gold bracelets.
Alongside the street, marched with shops, you will be able to hear the chestnut sellers, yelling as loud as possible, even to be heard by the sun, moon and stars.
You also see markets, which are full of brightly coloured stalls selling everything you could possibly imagine: fish, spices, exotic fruits, vegetables and fabrics. The market sellers shot at the top of their voices to attract the attentions of the shoppers. People are pushing and shoving. They bellow to each other to budge out of the way and whine and mumble under their breath about each other. The frantic last minute shoppers do not care about anything else; they just focus on grabbing the bargain items. The shoppers are still carrying enormous, bulging carrier bags from top named shops filled with immense presents, already full to the brim with purchases.
There is no more room to walk, or move in between the street because the area is so full of people.
After a two minutes stride, I begin to clearly identify the sweet scent, which caught my nose a few seconds ago. It was the aroma of milk chocolate coated with a heap load of chocolate, once again wrapped round with a thick layer of chocolate and finely crushed nuts. The shop offers colossal types of delicious sweets and still I can smell but now with an essence of toffee. This place was a land of heaven fit for a King.
In arms distant was a row of candyfloss, neatly arranged, tied with a cute red ribbon, to contribute to the Festive Season? I ordered a bag of candyfloss and the sweet pink sugar began to dissolve on my tongue like a small grain of sugar disappearing in the mist of a glass containing warm water.
Eating the candy floss whilst rapidly walking, I realise to see that more people have emerged into the picture and the majority of them are muffled up against the cold like two peas in a pod. The pavement was crowded with people just like fishing net overloaded with fish. People jostling.
A few days before Christmas, people of all ages enter the streets of Oxford. They will either disappear down the tube stations or jump off the busses. Looking through the windows, I begin to drool at the magnificent
selection displayed: clothes, toys, jewellery, etc, as though I was a sleeping baby or an extremely disgusting dog drooling at a gigantic bone the size of a house and as tasty as a five course meal at a top restaurant in the centre of London.
People’s nerves were getting frayed. Shopping is stressful before Christmas. Waiting for the lights to change, I wait passionately like a dog on a lead or a well -disciplined child.
Dawdling I arrive at Santa’s Grotto. The white washed walls contrasted significantly to the vibrant shade of red from Santa’s suit. He was so red; it was as though he spent the summer in the sun.
The families’ scramble over the wrapping paper and the children throw off their woolly coats, hats, scarf’s and gloves due to the intense heat of the store. The heat of the room was rapidly increasing whereby a point, I could not stand to no longer stay in the store the smallest child struggles behind the rest falls headlong in the plies of disorganized clothes thrown on the floor. His dignity lost.
I stride to the nearest exit gasping for breath.
As I walk through ‘MK1’, I can undoubtedly see that many shoppers were haggling over the price of purchases. Then someone barges into me and I very nearly fall over with the force of it. After I recover from my sudden fall, I widen my horizon and gaze upon particular groups of people. I get attracted to look at the people with loud voices.
The brightness of the light decreases as the clouds begins to fasten together structuring one massive cloud. It began to snow. The cold was beating on me. I felt the cold reaching my body even with wearing a thick layer of wool covered by a fur coat. It was as though I was wrapped with a sheep, which had never had its fur, trimmed.
The bitter air smacks my face as I walk, without any energy and worn out, forwards towards the end of the road to relaxation.
by: Vibi Rajkumar |
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