A young boy lived on a quiet street in Dublin, where he spent his days playing with his friends and attending school. He developed a crush on his friend Mangan's sister, and every morning, he would watch her from his window and follow her to school. He had never spoken to her, but her presence consumed his thoughts.
Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand.
One day, the girl spoke to the boy and asked if he was going to the Araby bazaar. He was unsure, but when she mentioned that she couldn't go due to a retreat at her convent, he promised to bring her something if he went. The boy's thoughts were filled with fantasies of the bazaar and his crush, making it difficult for him to focus on school and daily life.
On the day of the bazaar, the boy reminded his forgetful uncle about his plans to attend. His uncle eventually gave him the money, and the boy set off for the bazaar, excited to find a gift for the girl. However, when he arrived, it was already late, and most of the stalls were closed. He wandered around the dimly lit hall, listening to the conversations of others and feeling out of place.
As he approached a stall with porcelain vases and tea sets, the young lady working there spoke to him, but her tone was unenthusiastic. He declined to buy anything and continued to wander the bazaar, feeling increasingly disappointed and disillusioned. Eventually, the lights went out in the upper part of the hall, and the boy was left standing in darkness, feeling like a creature driven and derided by vanity, his eyes burning with anguish and anger.