Lost and found

 POLAND

I reached Warsaw, Poland’s capital, late at night, starving and tired. It had been a long ride. I parked my cycle at the hostel I was to stay in and then went out looking for food. Around 10PM, I found a kebab shop.

I don’t like queues and there was a long queue of people waiting to buy kebab. I would have left if it hadn’t been for my growling stomach. Finally, my turn came. I bought a large kebab and chapatti with roasted chicken and salad for six zloty. Seeing my skin colour and appearance, the shopkeeper asked, “Where are you from?”

“Nepal,” I answered.

“Where’s your friend? He hasn’t come for a long time.”

So there were Nepalis here. I took my food, joined the people on the streets and ate kebab. Some of them were sitting, some walking and eating. I wondered why they didn’t eat comfortably. Full and happy, I returned to the hostel, drank water
and slept.

I woke up late the next morning, pulled the curtains and saw the city enveloped in fog. I could make out the hazy outline of a palace in central Warsaw. It looked ethereal. I wanted to take a bath but didn’t find my jeans where I’d hung it. I thought somebody in the room had been confused. After a good bath, I returned to my room but it was locked. My keys were in the jeans’ pocket and my pants were already missing.

I thought of all the important things in my locker and rushed to the reception. They gave me an extra key to the room; my pants were still missing but my locker hadn’t been touched. None of my roommates knew about my jeans. Sometime later, we found someone else’s jeans in the room.

“I saw a lady check out this morning, maybe it is hers,” said the guy who slept above my bed. It was indeed hers. I had had around 200 zloty in my wallet. The money would have lasted a week. I had put important visiting cards and phone numbers in my jeans too. Just then, the guy above my bed popped his head out again to add, “By the way, you look sexy in her jeans.” I laughed.

source, wave magazine