Angel in the city

I woke up suddenly and without reason. I could swear I’d been dreaming but could hardly recall a thing. My head was still hurting from last night’s drink—a local spirit fermented from yam or some other tuber mixed with Coca-Cola. Someone’s wise idea of a cocktail! I had sobered up considerably but still lacked clarity. My inner eardrum rang as if I were suffering from Tinnitus, and for a few minutes it was hard for me to tell whether I was actually in my own room or someplace else. After a while, my faculties seemed restored, and so I looked around and saw that it was dark outside. From the window I could see the moon shining in the western horizon. The air was calm. Silence blanketed the entire neighbourhood. There were still a few hours before morning broke.

I turned on the switch, but the bulb didn’t light up. It was the ongoing load-shedding, of course. I cursed at the electricity authority and stumbled in the dark, rummaging through items on the table, searching for a flashlight. My knees bumped into a chair and I cursed again. I finally got hold of the flashlight and turned it towards the wall clock. It was quarter to five. The sun was set to rise at around six. I went to the washroom and began brushing my teeth. The toothpaste tasted strange. Lather had built up in my mouth. Damn! I’d mistaken shaving cream for toothpaste in the dark. I cursed at the electricity authority again. I spit out the foam, but there too much of it. I tried rinsing it out but the water ran out. I cursed again; at the water authority this time around. The day had only just begun, but it was already turning into a nightmare. I grabbed the towel on the hanger and wiped my mouth. It was terrible.

There was nothing else to do so I put on my jacket and got out of the house to take a stroll. There was no fog, but the air was chilly. Dew had just started to settle on the grass. The street was almost empty. Only a few early risers were walking or jogging with muffled faces. I exhaled deeply. The breath turned into vapor, and took the form of a small white mist in darkness. I turned towards the main road and took a few swift steps. Street dogs were curled up on a little corner, snuggling against one another. As I walked my shoes made squeaky noises. One of the mongrels snarled in response to this, but the others were too deep in their sleep to take notice. The last thing I wanted was to be attacked by a pack of street dogs. So I avoided the alley and scurried towards the main road.

It was really difficult to walk. The road expansion project was going on in full swing.  There were pot holes, and debris of concrete were strewn everywhere. It would have been difficult walking on that road in broad day light let alone in the early morning. Laboriously I waddled along the pavement. A few yards away a drunkard was staggering. As I looked at him, the man fell into a large pit. There was no one around, so I ran towards the pit and looked down.

It wasn’t very large pit, and the man was just lying here.

“Are you all right? Give me your hand man,” I yelled.

“I am fine…It’s comfortable here,” the drunk replied.

There was nothing I could pull him out with so I took off my jacket and dropped its sleeve into the pit.

“Get hold of this”

“Is that a snake?”

“No you Idiot! I am trying to help you”

The drunk seemed to have come to his senses and grabbed the sleeve. The guy was heavy. And with all my strength I yanked him off the ditch.

“You know what? You’re an angel,” the drunk spoke.

He was heavily inebriated. His face was smeared all over with mud. The sight of him might have been enough to make a lot of people puke.

 “That’s all right. Just be careful about where you are going,” I told him.

“I tell you. You’re an angel. And by the way, I am an archangel.” He was talking nonsense.

“I am a seraph. Ask whatever you wish shall now be fulfilled,” the drunkard continued.

I was in no mood to spend my morning hours talking to a strange drunkard who looked and seemed insane.

“That’s all right. There’s nothing I wish for. If something comes to my head I’ll let you know. I must go now,” I tried to dismiss him.

“No. You don’t understand. I am an archangel; a cousin of Gabriel’s. I’ve been sent down from heaven to keep track of good deeds.”

“What nonsense. You are a drunk. Get a life,” I yelled.

“No, you see. I am who I claim to be. I was just visiting a local tavern for some beverage. Nowadays there is no good booze in heaven. They’ve reduced our ration.”

“What?”

“They’ve cut back in heaven. Budget Deficit. We are going through a period of austerity. No more alcohol, so l had to sneak into earth for merry time,” the drunk tried to reason.

He seemed more like an ‘intellectual drunk’, someone who’d lost his mind pondering over worly new events.

“So you claim to be an angel, and yet you’re extremely drunk and were lying in a pit until a moment ago. That’s plain stupid. Go see psychiatrist!”

“My shrink is no good. He is in purgatory counseling some lost soul. A real slacker.”

He made a few more blasphemous remarks. I was simply tired of the conversation. Avoiding his presence I turned around.

“Look! If you don’t believe me simply make a wish and it will come true. I insist”

There was no way of getting over this guy.

“Ok then, let the water tank in my house be filled so that I can take shower,” I made a wise crack.

 “Your wish is granted,” he yelled.

I turned around and headed down the road. I couldn’t believe my luck, or my ill-luck for that matter. I’d run into a drunken idiot early in the morning. “If that guy was my guardian angel, I don’t even want to know what Satan looks like,” I thought to myself, while the guy was still mumbling something. I couldn’t care less. I looked up at the sky. Streaks of an early morning glow could be seen over the distant clouds. A few tiny stars were still twinkling in the horizon. They looked cold and distant. At the far end of the road were moving silhouettes of a few village women carrying dokos filled with vegetable.

A little ahead on the road I took a right turn. A milk van stood at the corner. A stack of crates had been piled up in front of the shop whose shutter was still down.

“Where the hell is the owner? The son of bitch never opens in time!” the driver yelled.

“Kaale! Go and kick on the door.”

“Sure Guruji,” said his helper.

Kaale went and kicked at the shutter. This created a racket and the dogs in the neighbourhood began to howl.

 “Do you know what time it is?” A bald head peeped out of the window next door.

“We know. It seems you don’t. Open the shutter. Will you?”

The guy in the window muttered something. After a while clinking sound came from within and then someone opened the shutter. A boy of around ten appeared from within. He was still rubbing his eyes when the bald-headed guy yelled from the window:

“You jack ass! Do I have to wake you up every day? Sorry guruji. From now onwards I will make sure the shutter opens on time.”

“You better do. Otherwise we will report and you’ll lose license,” the driver quipped.

I stood there for a while and watched while they quarreled. Finally, the boy laboriously carried all the crates inside the shop and the van drove away. It was still early and there were no customers. A few other shopkeepers who sold milk in retail a few blocks down the road were waiting to get their allotment.

By the time the commotion subsided I had abandoned my plans of going to Pashupati. I’d had too many adventurous events for one morning and was too tired. The entire day lay ahead of me and I longed for my comfy blanket. I returned home.

When I got back there was no electricity, and it was still dark. I headed directly to my room. As I was changing I heard something unusual, the sound of running water. I got alarmed. I peeked into the wash room. And what do you know water was flowing from a tap I’d forgotten to turn off earlier.

“Damn! That drunk son of bitch was indeed an angel."

- Dipesh Karki