Fiction

Writing Nepal 2017, 1st: the almost enlightenment of Prince Trailokya

Dipesh Risal | October 27, 2017

Prince Trailokya stopped at a bend halfway up Shivapuri, exhausted. He’d left his horse outside Budhanilkantha temple almost two ghadis ago and had climbed continuously, determined to make it to the top.

Mavak Tov

CB Anderson | May 19, 2017

Twelve years ago it was Isaac who happened to be sitting outside when Ranya showed up at Chavurat Messiah one October night. Only she wasn’t Ranya then; she was Kathleen DiMarco, Kat, twenty-four years old and seven months pregnant.

Two worlds meet in the centre of the universe

Dipesh Risal | April 19, 2017

Amritananda smiled. What a strange, quaint person this Rejident was, impeccable manners, soft-spoken and so out of place in the cesspool of Kathmandu politics.

Where is Lester Young?

Paritosh | December 5, 2016

I tell her that it’s 2062 where I come from.

Senator, do you shave?

Paritosh | July 26, 2016

Clocks are trouble. They lie. Women are trouble. They know when you’re lying. Bloody hell. I don’t know what day it is.

Lakhen and dragonflies – I

Salik Shah | May 12, 2016

There was a time when people in the great plains believed in ny?ya. Not anymore. Not after what had happened.

Taxicab confessions

Paritosh | January 14, 2016

“Y’know, Marilyn Monroe was a Russian spy?” “Nope. But a postman wrote Ham on Rye.”

Love in the time of blockade

J?r?me Le Fiste | December 1, 2015

I can’t exactly remember what happened in the days before the blockade was imposed. But I do remember that just as the gates in the mysterious south went down and prices went up a beautiful girl with dark curly hair moved in to the next building.

Writing Nepal, 3rd: The pārijāts will bloom

Abha Niraula | September 8, 2015

“Pārijāt only blooms at night”, Ama tells me.

“No it doesn’t,” I giggle in disbelief.