On a late summer's evening the soft fading glow of the day settles through the skylights of the shopping mall. The store windows are a blaze of the colors and patterns of all manner of the goods of our consumer economy. The polished chrome columns, the glittering marble floors, the arching atriums with their escalators ever in movement, are like a temple of that economy, in our world of today. In the air are the tangled aromas of coffee, cinnamon, grilled meats, pizza and salted pretzels. Beautiful women in beautiful clothes hurry past carrying their bags of blouses, jewelry and shoes. Men dressed to the nines in slacks and loafers escort them along or follow after.

Here is a stand selling gold earrings, bracelets and necklaces. A stall selling watches. Another is dolling out ice cream in little paper cups or waffle cones. Boxes of candy wrapped in ribbons. Remote control toys. Cellphones. Blue jeans and greeting cards. You can find it all here.

The hum of the voices from the boys and girls laughing in the arcades, the manicured ladies discussing their lives in the cafes, or the men in their suits answering their cell phones rises and fills the echoing, interconnected halls like the chanting in the alleys of an ancient bazaar. Here you can witness countless little moments in the lives of those who have made their way here today, in this the market of our time. A young man in a polo shirt and slacks asking a girl in designer jeans for her phone number. A sales clerk on a break, sitting in a corner of the food court, staring at the crowds and sighing. A woman dragging two crying kids from the window of a toy store. A man counting out twenty dollar bills on the counter of a jewelry kiosk. School girls laughing at an old man staring at them from a coffee bar.

Yes, this place is a place of our time; but also as old as the world itself.