Writing haikus in Jhapa

Nasala Chitrakar | March 15, 2015

On 20 February this year, the eighth-grade students of East Horizon English Higher Secondary School in Jhapa found their language teacher, Rekha Ma’am, seated amongst them. That day, our team of four weary Word Warriors was taking on her role. After 16 long hours on a night bus from Kathmandu, we decided to throw our […]

To my first white hairs

Tishani Doshi | March 4, 2015

Weave then, weave o quickly weave your sham veneration. Knit me webs of winter sagehood, nightcap, and the fungoid sequins of a crown. – Wole Soyinka     Dear Sirs, I wish you’d arrived sooner. I’ve been waiting since 1983. HQ sent a notice of disapproval. A 7-year-old, they wrote, has scant need to speak […]

When I have a daughter

Itisha Giri | February 23, 2015

  When I have a daughter, I will pinch her every day so her skin turns to rhino hide – so she feels no pain when cornered by a stranger’s hand at play.   When I have a daughter, I will lash her with my tongue – so she is ready for it when someone […]

The patchwork man

JDS | December 3, 2014

1.   I knew a man who was made from echoes of all the men I knew before him.   He thought it was fate, and as I lay for the first time with my head in the familiar groove between his shoulder and chest, I let him marvel at how well I understood him. […]

Daddy wears white

Anuja Ghimire | July 24, 2014

Daddy Wears White After letting the receiver hang Precariously from the table You had gone up to the roof I had already seen the watery edges Before I heard the echoing question on the phone The last time you cried, I pointed at the stars And said “Look, everyone we love, takes our pictures from […]


Paritosh | January 11, 2014

MORNING SONGS   Raindrops rest on golden waves, She tugs and pulls with an ivory comb. Coffee brews in the kitchen, She hums an old Celtic tune.   Curtains drenched in warm orange light, The oak trees sigh on 9th Avenue. She plucks a rhododendron from the forest, She hums an old jhyāurey tune.   […]


stone.soup | October 13, 2013

Nothing wears its cape of spring like

the magnolia tree in their yard does

after waking from the naked ugliness

of its gnarled, rough stumps of winter…


stone.soup | September 5, 2013

Do geckos know no vertigo

that they cling to the ceiling

to grope, entwine, mate violently,

unafraid of the waiting fall?

साने घर्तीको कविता

नयन पोखरेल सिन्धुलीय | January 18, 2013

घर्तीको छोरो भए पनि त्यो फटाहा सानेको निशानाचाहिं मान्नै पर्ने हो हामी सानै छंदा थोत्रा साइकलका टायरबाट गुलेली बनाएर नांगेडांडामा मकै रुग्न जाँदा त्यो बुढो कदमको रुखबाट एक एक सुगा खसाल्थ्यो