When Ullash decided to choose the cat for one of his experiments, our borobhabi, Ullash's mother, didn't raise a single objection
Ravindra's prose is brisk, smooth, and detailed, with numerous stories from traditional Nepali and Hindu folklore chipped in, adding layers as the story unfolds.
In dry, forgotten Shukhno Gram, a station master’s dull routine shifts when a runaway bride in blue arrives. Their unexpected bond, painted with longing, art, and fleeting rain, transforms solitude into a moment of magic.
Now, an automated metro-rail glides silently through the city. Conversations have become clipped, calculated. Efficiency replaces spontaneity. They call it peace. Rahim calls it absence.
Farid Shaheb earned a fair bit at the office today. These days, because of the Anti Corruption Commission and newspaper journalists’ incessant pestering, he can no longer directly take the money offered to him.
“Do you think they think about us?” Asgar muttered.
I love the texture of your hair and I wanted to tell you about it in far too many words than either you or I are comfortable with.
Beyond the celebration of Eid, this book also explores themes of love, loss, and the grief of spending a special occasion without a loved one.
I stared at the row of pre-peeled and packaged tangerines sealed tightly under plastic wrap.
I am a photo of a person, printed in black and white, in a newspaper.
The sound of your voice is a song.
Where could they live happily for the rest of their childhood?
The creatures of the dark feed on fear. And hot sauce.
"I want to propose a deal with the Bazar."
I see it in the words, Where your hand dragged over the wet ink.
For wounded soldiers rarely feel, Of throbbing hearts and broken skin.
Not even the asters accepting your gaze.
One-quarter grilled chicken. Naan. And a hell of a story.
One day I was playing cricket with my friends near a field of my house. That day the game was exciting and fun-filled but unfortunately it started raining, we had to stop playing and we took shelter under a tree.
