The afternoon sun felt warm on Arko's face as he walked along the narrow dusty path near his school. In his small hand, he held two shiny coins, the ones his mother had pressed into his palm before he left home.
"Arko, here's two or three rupees. Eat something, don't study on an empty stomach," she had said softly.
He nodded then, but now, as he walked toward the small shop beside the school, his heart beat with quiet excitement.
The shop — everyone called it Dokani's shop — was small, made of bamboo walls and a tin roof that shimmered under the sunlight. Inside were glass jars filled with biscuits, spicy snacks, and colorful toffees that looked like little treasures.
Arko stood at the counter, the coins clinking softly in his sweaty hand. His eyes moved from one jar to another — tamarind toffee, orange candy, chocolate bars, and salty snacks — too many choices for his little mind.
"What will you take, huh? Why are you taking so long?" the shopkeeper barked, his thick mustache twitching with impatience.
Arko flinched and lowered his head.
"I… I'm still thinking, uncle," he murmured.
The shopkeeper sighed loudly. "These kids waste so much time! Every day it's the same nonsense!"
He muttered a few rude words under his breath — words Arko had heard before but never dared to repeat. Sometimes, when the children made him wait too long, the shopkeeper would shout angrily and even throw their coins back, telling them to "go away and learn some manners."
It wasn't just Arko. The shopkeeper was always like that — scolding, shouting, and using bad words with every school kid who came to buy something. But even then, the children still came to his shop, because there was no other shop nearby. No matter how much he shouted, Dokani's shop was their only place to get a small treat after school.
Yet, despite his temper, the shopkeeper had his funny moments too. During school breaks or playtime, he would sit outside the shop, complaining about his white hair.
"Who wants to earn a rupee, huh? Ten white hairs for one rupee!" he'd shout, handing a small comb to the laughing students.
One by one, the children would take turns gently pulling out his white hairs, counting aloud —
"One… two… three…"
The shopkeeper would groan and joke, "Arre, you're pulling the black ones too!"
Everyone laughed — even Arko, who joined in shyly, earning his first coin that way.
Sometimes, the kids made fun of him behind his back. One day, a boy whispered, "Let's tell him there's a lizard on his head!"
"Lizard? Where?!" the shopkeeper shouted, jumping up from his stool and dropping a packet of biscuits. The whole group burst into laughter. Even Arko couldn't stop giggling as the man brushed his bald spot, muttering, "You devils, I'll give you all a smack one day!"
On another day, when the shopkeeper bent to pick up a coin, a clever boy quickly stole a peanut from the jar. The man turned around instantly.
"Hey! Who touched my peanuts?"
All the children pointed at Arko at once.
"Not me!" Arko cried, eyes wide.
The shopkeeper stared, then laughed. "Hmm… maybe the ghost did it, huh?"
Even in his anger, the shopkeeper couldn't hide his fondness for the kids. He shouted a lot, but deep down, he liked their noise — it made his lonely shop feel alive.
Later that day, Arko bought two orange toffees with his coins. Outside, he sat under the bot tree, tore open the paper, and popped one into his mouth. The sweetness spread slowly, calming his heart. He smiled faintly, looking at the faint marks the coins had left on his palm.
For others, it was just two coins.
For Arko, it was the taste of love — and a small piece of happiness in his world.