Cursed Blessings: Tales of Twisted Fates

The beginning

In the mountainous region of a small country on the planet Earth, a group of boys gathered around a small clearing in the middle of the valley, playing a game of cricket. Occasional laughter was echoing through the hills as they hit and ran around chasing a makeshift rubber ball.

Among them, a seven-year-old Sherpa boy with a snotty nose was rubbing the makeshift rubber ball vigorously against his trousers, preparing for the next throw. His eyes were narrowed in focus considering another boy with the bat he was facing against.

The Sherpa boy named 'Dawa' said, "Peanut, I'm definitely going to beat you today."

With a bit of a short run, he threw the ball with a spin, sending it across the pitch.

Standing at the other end of the crease directly in front of him was another 7-year-old boy, Peanut, with an oddly dual-complexion face—one side of his face having a darker complexion than the other, appearing a bit mystical. Peanut was not his real name but everybody in the village called him that since he was a child because he accidentally ate a peanut when he was about a year old almost choking on it.

Peanut swung his makeshift wooden bat to strike the ball, connecting the ball with surprising force, and started running towards the other end of the pitch.

A loud sound echoed as the ball soared high above the boy's heads to great heights, disappearing into the dense forest beyond their playing boundary.

For a moment, everybody suddenly became silent and the atmosphere became heavy.

The boys around him made no attempt to retrieve the ball but were instead staring at Peanut with angry faces.

"This is too much, Peanut", the Sherpa boy said, irritated. "This is the third time this month that you lost our ball. You know how hard it is for us to get even a half-decent ball to play."

Another boy said angrily, "This is it. I'm never playing any games if you guys include Peanut in it."

"Me neither!" echoed another.

"Yeah, same for me."

The boys muttered in agreement, frustration could be clearly seen in their voices as they glared at Peanut.

Peanut winced seeing their reactions, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Guys, don't be so harsh and exclude me. I promise, next time, I will try to control my strength and not hit the ball too hard, okay."

"It was not so bad this time, just the ball went a bit far. See, the bat I have in my hand is still intact."

He held up the bat and as he spoke, a deep crack spread through the wood. One part of the broken bat splintered and can be seen hanging.

"Now, he's done it.", cried one of the boys with tears in his eyes. "He even broke my precious bat. This was made by my father with the strongest wood in the village."

Peanut hurriedly replied, "I will ask my uncle to buy a playable bat for you the next time he visits the town."

One child slowly said, "Humph, show off. Since you have a rich uncle, why don't you buy us all a whole set of cricket accessories along with the bat while you're at it?"

"And my football that you tore last time."

"What about my table tennis bat that you broke?"

"My badminton racket that you bent."

Other children started bearing down on him.

"Hey, hey, stop it guys. I remember I gave you all enough money as compensation for that." Peanut replied.