The quiet moments among the books, while deeply engrossed in reading, made me forget about everything else.

He looked around the table and wondered how this group of losers would transform Nepali literature.

Torn between exams and expectations, Shree discovers a new sense of purpose when he joins a generation rising against corruption.

A tale of loss, rage, and resilience in a village where the internet died but human voices rose.

You’re not really serious when you’re 17, but every decision you make, or want to make, seems titanic.

I had a strange feeling that H wouldn’t remain in Nepal for long. But years later, he has faced eight rejections from the foreign embassy.

As if taken over by some force, she flung herself out of her bed and ran to her desk.

I loved her like any recluse could love another, by keeping her all to myself—and when she drifted away, I became the bearer, witness, and consoler all at once.

After two months of selling papers, Ramesh loses the money meant to feed his family and learns a bitter lesson.

A mysterious old woman offers help to a wounded knight, but her true power lies in what comes after.

Among the joggers on Damside street was a brown-skinned girl whose ponytail bounced rhythmically with each step.

Jackie stares into his nemesis’s healthy eyes, and a part of him longs to lash out in vengeance.

It is a mess wherever I am. People shout at ungodly hours. They rarely laugh. They walk around with sulky faces.

The place was a storm of anger and confusion. The square was littered with debris, and the air stank of bananas and rage.

It only takes a little for a man to feel content: a family, a roof over his head, and a society that respects him.

I’ll be here, clinging to the ghosts of conversations we never had, and he’ll go, like he always has.

Apurva, weighed down by memories and meaninglessness, seeks solace in a conversation with his professor.

Gauri’s father’s fragile yet insistent voice echoed in her memory. ‘Read it to me, chori,’ he had whispered, battling through his final days.

Kathmandu traffic jams are more than just a nuisance—they’re a stage for camaraderie and quiet rebellion.

A newly constructed bridge collapses on the morning of its opening. The cause? A coconut sold by Hari Bahadur.