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The last time Bamun wore a t-shirt and shorts, the whole community went nuts! It was awfully scandalous! What was he thinking? A member of the highest caste in such outrageous clothes and right in the holy temple?

Some even demanded he gets cast out. Luckily his father was an influential figure of the society and a committee member and he may or may not have said a thing or two in the right ears and the whole thing died down shortly. Bamun’s mother came off worst, her reputation as a good little bamun woman dwindled. She couldn’t even face her own circle she was the queen of. She shut herself off and shunned bamun altogether for the whole week.

Bamun wasn’t perturbed by any of this. He was, after all, very much WOKE. Besides, you only live once. So chill, bro!

One day Bamun slid his legs into a cool pair of snickers, popped his head through the most gorgeous top he had, and went to the mango grove. While he was sitting under a big mango tree and philosophizing whether anime profile picture was acceptable in modern societies or not—suddenly materialized a green young lady.

-- ‘Howdy!’, a cheerful voice came out of her.
-- ‘Um...hello? Wh...who are you?’,
-- ‘Daliah. All my friends call me Dali though. What are you doing?’
-- ‘Philosophizing.’
-- ‘What’s that?’
-- ‘It’s the process of… hey, are you sick or something? You look kinda… your face...um... different?”
-- ‘Huh? What do you mean? Oh! Thiiiss.’ She chuckled. ‘My skin is green. ‘Cause I’m a Shakchunni.’

Bamun missed a heartbeat. This cannot be! They are supposed to be ugly, big-toothed with dusty hair and glowing red eyes, and on top of everything, they are not supposed to exist! Myths, legends at best. Whereas, this woman… this woman…

--‘But.. but... you’re beautiful!’, finally he squeezed out some words.
-- ‘Yeah.’ She shrugged. ‘So everyone tells me.’

Bamun stared at her, awestruck. She had a slender body with black short boyish hair that danced around her neck. Her green skin glowed in the bright sunlight. And her curves… Bamun had to force himself to up his chin.

-- ‘Um, everyone?’ He felt relieved that Daliah didn’t notice his looking. Fascinated or not, that would make things awkward.

-- ‘My friends. Other “supernatural” beings you people are so scared of. Seriously, we are not scary at all. Like, NADA!”, her mouth made a round mocking shape at the word supernatural. ‘In fact, I was just going there. Then I saw you down there. Clueless as a sparrow. I thought you got lost. So many of you are. Who knew you were… well, whatever it is you’re doing.” She hugged herself nonchalantly.

Bamun stood there motionless. Thinking.

-- ‘So you’re coming?’ Daliah looked at him intently.

Bamun racked his brain. Was she really asking him to go with her? Where? To his imminent demise? But no woman so beautiful like her can possibly kill! Don’t kid yourself—he slapped himself in his mind. That line of thinking was the downfall of many men. What should he do? And what could he do? Maybe she was just asking him to go to her friends. Moreover, Bamun wasn’t sure he wanted that encounter to be the last.

-- ‘Yes’, he finally uttered. And followed her through the woods.

When Bamun finally headed back home, the sun was already down. It was the best day of his life, he recalled. Daliah led him to a place one might call a festival of the preternatural. She introduced him to her friends. All sorts of ghosts were there. Petni, Pechapechi, Nishi, Kanavulo, Mamdo, Aleya, Mecho Voot—all were in a very jovial manner. Mecho voot even performed his expertise at catching fishes in Bamun’s regard. He conversationally let Bamun know— Mecho voots no longer eat raw fish. They usually grill them with pepper and salt. He had Bamun tasted some of it. It was delightfully delicious!

But all Bamun thinking about then was—Daliah. Her smell, perfect cylinder-esque hands that can extend themselves (quite handy), the way she talked and laughed.

Bamun was in love.

Going back home, he came to a firm decision. A decision that might rock his entire world, send his mother to an early grave.

Thousands of years ago, bamuns and their wives cowered and ran from the abominable Shakchunnis.
Now this Bamun of ours — wants to marry one.
May he live long and raise little Shakchunni babies.