There’s a man who I daily see on the footpath from the window of my micro bus I am traveling by screaming “Ha Chapali Height” (in fact he has stopped it now) looking at the poster of the movie Chapali Height. He is never aware of my presence there nor does he know that I’ve or anyone else has been marking him for he has lost his mental balance. I find quite interesting a man. He is tall and has bit of beard turning partly whitish. He has that spectacle which I see modern day “Kathmadu boys” wearing in great sense of heroism. His look may have aided but I am not quite sure what has he got that always fascinates me about him. Every day I pass by the way he is on his regular duty of his divine activities that pleases him, his peculiar way of saying “Ha Chapali Height” and his charm has something in it that always makes me expect him right there on the footpath of crossroad when my micro bus gets struck on the traffic light.
He must have but been a government worker before, that he is someday absent from his duty without any prior notifications. I feel so sad; I take my head out of the microbus even in the busy traffic to scan him somewhere around, he must but be deep asleep or may be on his occasional duty of saying “Ha LOOT” to please someone like me on the next crossroad which I do not pass by. Oh I miss him so badly. I miss you man, your spectacles and my ears wait desperately till next day for your next pronunciation of “Ha Chapali height”.
I am more than happy today that I so proudly broke the traffic rule of getting off, form the bus I was travelling, right at the crossroad under the overhead bridge. At the other side of the road on the footpath I can see an old woman in waiting peacefully for her costumer to buy something worth a rupee or two which she would collect throughout the day to make her living. What a co-incidence, a man comes with a 2 rupee coin.
“Mother, can I have a cigarette?”.
Oh the holiness, the man asks with such a politeness and such great respect to the sixty crossed skinny woman, I can’t stop tears rolling down my eyes.
I wish I could repeat such great respect buying a cigarette too but Oh! I am too young to smoke! Certainly “mother”, next time when I have a two rupee coin and have grown enough up to smoke, I will buy one. Count my two rupees in.