Something in my neighborhood I encounter every day that requires me to observe in a certain way is the vendors one block away from my house. These vendors sell all sorts of things such as spinach, fish, and different kinds of vegetables. Every time I have to use the subway to get to places, I always come across these vendors. The technique they use to sell these products are simply shouting out the product name in Bangla and saying it is on sale. This puts an automatic response in my head; demanding me to think or act like I am experiencing something from my motherland.
My neighborhood is filled with a lot of Bangladeshi cultures. It ranges from the characteristics of individuals to the different shops on this street. My reaction to these occurrences of events sometimes feels like I am actually in Bangladesh. Down in the more rundown areas of the country, the vendors would shout all morning trying to sell their products and it honestly would just suffice as an alarm clock. Sometimes it can be annoying, however, I then realize that these jobs are their means of surviving and making money to support their families and I instantly reevaluate myself. Although many people do buy from them, this kind of behavior is demanding only of the products to sell but not exactly the type of response it ends up getting.
I added a touch of pathos in my second paragraph to help readers and myself understand the vendors and relate to them. People do all sorts of things to make money and provide for their families so I think it was important to include that statement.
Tasnim, this is a rich, observant addition; it helps us emotionally relate to the vendors, and you as a writer, more deeply.