Palpasa, Arjan And The Magic Mailbox-I

Palpasa, Arjan And The Magic MailBox

Arjan: The Encounter

It is a normal day like everyday, nothing special. Football is all over my mind. Football and those cheering voices, cheering me up, urging me to score. And I also hear the Boos from the opponent fans. I don't care about the Booing.

I took the football. As if it belonged to my legs. Three players came throwing their body towards me. I wasn't scared. Rather I beat them. Now there were 4 players left to beat. Everybody was shouting my name.

Four players to beat. But I was so tired, I scored tiresome 2 goals earlier. But we were equal by 2-2. I had to score a goal to win. 4 players and I am tired. I decided that I will shoot the Ball and curl it the way that it passes between the players and beat the keeper. So I shot the ball. And all I remember is people shouting “Goallllllllllllllllllll”. I won I won again.

I hope you liked the flash backs. Coz I love to tell my story in hollywoodish way. I don't remember pretty much because I was drunk like hell after the game. I won my share, commission for making my team win, Rs.2000 it will help me for a day. Like everyday I kept the money inside my secret pocket so that I wont spend it, I had to save it. Because my brother needed it.

I am Arjan. And I live in Hell, slums of Jorpati, Kathmandu. I quit studying after 12th. I used be a rank holder but no school needed a rank holder who didn't pay his school fees. So I had to quit school. My Parents are dead. I don't want emotional thing to cling into your thoughts because I hate sympathies. So I wont tell How they died. The only thing you need to know is My brother and I are the only part my parents left on this earth. My brother's smile is everything to me. And I have been doing everything for it. I live for him and I will die for his happiness.

My brother Arnav wants to be an engineer and a physicist. I never get this science thingy. But I want to make him what he wants. After losing dad and mom. I am his family. And I will never disappoint him, i will do anything to get him what he wants, he is 11 years old and genius like 21 years old. He loves science. And he still thinks that Mom and Dad are alive and they had to shift to US to run our Business. And he cannot contact his mom and dad because they have no telephone or internet. He can only write letters to him. Which his brother would post in Post office. I think my brother knows that there is no Mom and Dad anymore, He is intelligent, which science freak won't know that telephones are as abundant as Air? He doesn't want to accept it. He tries to find his mom and dad through the letters which I reply to him being our mom and dad. I think he knows but pretending that he doesn't. Whatever, I wont stop replying him.

Like everyday, after playing football and winning some money I go back to being the Villain of Night. I go to New Baneshwor everyday and Pick the Pocket of people who visit Nanglo restaurant. My logic behind my mischief is, they are so rich to spend in mediocre restaurant, they must be pretty rich to dine in Nanglo where everything is overpriced, if I picked their Pocket, their money wont lessen, it will not affect them, am I right? Please don’t say I will go to Hell. I have already lost faith on God who decides our lives and Karma. 

There was this girl that night, I saw her carrying huge purse. She was with her friends carrying a huge tablet. So Logically, she is rich and it wont affect her, my mind was throwing logic at me. So I ran from her behind, snatched her purse and looked back, I don't know why I did, but i looked back, and I saw her face, that innocent face, beautiful face. Angel in Nanglo. She was surprised and angry. I could tell by looking at her. She didn't see me because I was wearing my 'kerchief to cover my face. I don't know if she is a rich bitch or a humble rich girl. But I had a crush on her.

Palpasa: Surprise Package

Every day is same to me. Yesternight was different. I didn't expect a thug to mug me. Well, thanks to him, I could make an excuse to not attend the Social Congregation in Nanglo. Ah Yes, I am Palpasa. This writer emotionally blackmailed me to narrate "my side of story". I don't know what he is trying to do, he thinks he can make epic story out of my story and he ended up letting me mugged yesternight. I am pissed with him. I hate the writer.

And Palpasa finished her morning routine and decided to go out for a walk.

"Damn You writer, You asked me to write my side of story and you are narrating it yourself, doesn't make sense, duh?" As You can see that she can hear me.

Palpasa yelled this time mocking my Hypocrisy, "I still hear you."

Well As your writer narrated you, I finished my early morning routine and decided to take Bruno for walk. I opened the Gate to find out this cute little mail box. Not so cute but it was painted Pink, duh? So I gave all of my attention to that little Pink Cute mailbox. Well I wasn't surprised that it was addressed to me, of course I am awesome so some awesome guy must have built it in front of my house to impress me.

Wow, I just decided to narrate a story and the writer already gave me a romantic guy to deal with. Well my dreams are coming true I guess. "Do you hear that, the Prodigal narrator?"

She is taunting me.

After 2 minutes...............................

Holy shit! This writer must like me, he returned the things that mugger took away; he returned my things to me. Thank You narrator, oh my god I love you, you returned my diary too.

And Palpasa finally got her things back. I must say she must not have seen the letter, she was so carried away by the happiness of getting her things back.

"What did you say? A Letter? Where is the letter?"

"Ok never mind"

I was bewildered, it was addressed to me, addressing me was not the reason I was surprised. Well It was the thug who addressed it to me. Funny! He had guts to write a letter mentioning his address, expecting me to reply.

While Palpasa was busy playing with her thoughts her eyes fell upon the words on the paper. Well she was quite amused, must be by the fact that the thug knew how to read and write in English, the language, the knowledge of which determines whether person is literate or not in Nepal. So practically, a person reading in Nepali medium school is illiterate.

"Oh shut up."

Ok I must stop narrating I guess. She is reading the letter.

"Dear Palpasa,

I am sorry, and I hope you will forgive me. I don't write to every beautiful girl whom I mug. And its also not that I build mailbox in front of house of every beautiful girl I mug and give her things back. Curiosity kills the cat. And so did my decision to have a peep at your diary. It killed me. The last page of your diary almost swept the floor right away below my foot. You are not what you are. Like the “way I am” is not because of what I want to be. I have story behind me which makes me mug every visitor in Nanglo. I would like to explain my situation to you, given the fact that you want to be a politician, my life in slum may provide you with the better perception towards the people who don't have right glasses to see their dream come true. And Yes I live in slum and yes I want to be a friend of yours. A pen friend may be. Put your reply, if you want to reply, But what will you reply?

Anyways I am a Slum-mer be my friend and I will take away your gloomy summer. Was that cheeky? 

Never mind.

P.S. I used to wear right glasses to see my dream come true, until I realized my dream spelled 'Nightmare'.

Yours Truly
The Mugger"

Arnav: The Search For The Reply

It's middle of the Night. I am trying to reach to the mailbox, "yes I am expecting some reply." I would love to see something in the name of reply, even an ink stain will keep me happy for the years. I love her. Ok Ok I have crush on her. I don't know what this feeling is so let it be “love”. Well I have never built Mailbox for someone.

"Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhh" I want to shout right now, celebrate. There is a piece of paper inside the mailbox. There is a reply. She did reply. I love her. Ok I have crush on her. Not that I build Mailbox.............. So should I first offer some holy things to God? I am sure someone is writing my life and he is enjoying giving me Perks. I love you writer of my fate. I love you Palpasa. 
PS Writer don't be jealous, if my love for Palpasa is eternal, You are the eternity to me.

He really doesn't know that I am writing his story. Is he flirting with me? Somebody tell him I am not a girl.

"It's not funny Arjan", I shouted expecting he would listen. Damn!

Wow the sight of this closed piece of paper gives me such an ecstacy, How much of Happiness must it contain? I am curious. To read Palpasa. To read her Handwriting which dances like Balerina. Beautifully! Did I mention that she is my Love at first sight and How much I love her.

Oh my God This Arjan Boy is crazy. Is he in love or you made him insane, Palpasa?

"I am wearing headphones, text me, I can't hear you like this and please stop bugging and Narrating my life, you irk me." She is mocking me.

Am I a poor narrator?