My First Shoes

By Jivan Jivanta

When I grew old enough to be conscious of myself and the world around me, my life was still living on barefoot. I cannot remember exactly when my feet got their first slippers. Still, my memory can vividly take me back to the first sport shoes I ever had. I had bought them but was not lucky enough to wear them. 

As a child, I desperately waited for the Dashain festival, not for its religious essence but for new clothes and money I would get.  My parents always bought new clothes in Dashain and we used to go to mom’s brothers’ house to receive tika. Grandfather and other elders used to give money after putting tika. So Dashain was a source of money for me. 

When I was around ten years old, Dashain was round the air as usual and I collected some money. I had been desperately longing for sport shoes for quite some time. So I did not spend that money. I requested my mother to buy me sport shoes. She said yes but that money was not sufficient. So she added some money and bought a pair of sport shoes for me. 

The sport shoes were my dream. Some of my friends would always wear such shoes and show off while running around. But I could do nothing but watch their joyful moments. So I had started cherishing a silent dream to own them for a long time. 

Finally the dream came true. I was quite excited to wear new shoes. But our school was closed. There was no need to go anywhere. Thus I started to wear the shoes and wandered inside the house every day. 

There was a friend who lived next to our farm. Everybody called him Rajan. One day, when I was in the farm, he came to me. I was quite excited because I had shoes now. I immediately told him about them. He was quite happy and asked me to show him the shoes. We came to our house and I showed him my shoes. He tried to wear them. They fitted well on his feet though he was slightly elder to me by age.

Next day, he came to my house and requested me to lend him my shoes for a day. He said, “I have to meet a relative immediately. My shoes were washed yesterday; they didn’t dry.  So please lend me your shoes for one time.” 

He was not well-behaved. Most people labelled him a mischievous boy but he was my close friend. My mind did not want to give him shoes but my heart did not reject his request. I gave him my dream, my new shoes. 

He put his feet into my shoes. The shoes had red soles, their body being white and the lace green. He buckled the shoes with the green lace and sped off. The red sole of my shoes also ran together with his feet. I watched him go until he was no more visible. He disappeared after some time and the red soles also disappeared with him. 

I looked his way till late night but my shoes did not come. The following morning the sun arose but my friend did not show up. Another day too, I waited for the entire day but he did not show up. I was worried. If my mother knew about it, she would not forgive me. 

Next day I went to Rajan’s house and asked his elder sister, “Where is Rajan?” 

She said, “That thief? He escaped after stealing money. Our father would not let him come back…” 

I could not hear anymore. My ears were force-shut by her words. My eyes were covered by uncertain future of my shoes and my mind ran empty. I could not think any more. 

After a week Rajan came to my house wearing my shoes. They were very dirty. He had been wearing them for a week continuously with no care. So they looked quite old. I was upset by the poor looks of my shoes. Such a huge dream of mine had become a lost history, tearing me apart. I did not accept the old shoes. I told him to take them back and replaced them with a new pair. He returned taking my dream, my old shoes. 

He started wearing my shoes while wandering about in the village. But he never showed up a new pair for me. I kept reminding him to bring another new shoes but he always told me that he was managing money. But he never brought any shoes. He tore my shoes making them look quite old right in front of my eyes but never returned with a new pair of shoes for me. 

My dream got brutally shattered as my first pair of new shoes.

[Jivan Jivanta is a Nepali poet, critic and educator. He teaches Nepali Literature at Tribhuvan University, and is pursuing MA degree in English at the same university. He has written for several periodicals and has published books of criticism.]