The brief was a sabzi mandi — a heaped, noisy vegetable market — which in three tones loses the very colours that tell a tomato from a bunch of greens. So the abundance had to come from pattern: the produce is built from repeated rounded gourds, leafy clusters and piled fruit, all iron-black outline on madder red, so density reads as plenty. Three wooden carts on flat spoked wheels line up under scalloped parasols, a vendor and a haggling buyer at each, like a row of small shrines beneath the presiding Goddess on her cockerel. Vaghri families themselves have long been associated with selling produce and small wares, so a market belongs on their cloth with particular truth, and the tradition has always honoured the Mother as the source of plenty. Panels of weighing, sorting and basket-carrying ring the carts. Madder red, iron-black, cream, nothing more.