Fiction Park

An unlikely crush

Even though the whole day, a midsummer day, had been swelteringly hot, the atmosphere drastically cooled off as the fat old sun began to set. The gentle breeze teased the flower buds and the branches of the trees were thrown into a sudden oscillation. My hair, too, was swaying with it.

Pooja Dhakal, Feb 17 2019

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Serving justice

Once upon a time, there lived a family of four; a father and a mother and their two sons. They lived a happy life. But as they say, happiness is nothing but a prelude to troubles. Troubles soon came knocking on their doors. When the younger son was just seven years old, the mother passed away.

Sarthak Byanjankar, Feb 17 2019

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The demented mind

The sound of water running from a tap woke me up from my sleep. I feel a dull headache; I look outside, and it is still dark. I check the time—it’s 2:30 am. My hostel room is a mess; things are scattered everywhere. I get up and make a half-hearted attempt to clean up my room, and midway, I decide to do it later. I go outside my room to the verandah to get some fresh air. It is cold. The air is heavy with silence. Everything is enveloped in  thick fog.


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It is another winter’s morning, standing at the bus stop, waiting for the local bus to Kalanki. Vacantly gazing at the open road, I hear a fragile “namaste” from behind me. As I turn, I come face-to-face with a familiar soul. It’s my dear friend Ramsaran Devkota, so I greet him with a smile.

Corona S, Feb 10 2019

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The Meat God

In the beginning of the end was that desire Swarming, exuberant, wriggling: like newborn maggots

Bibek Adhikari, Feb 03 2019

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Childhood sweetheart

I don’t know from where to start this story. This happened around six years back. I was a very shy eighth-grader back then. I was naïve and a nerd who knew little about the world.

Kantilata Thapa, Jan 27 2019

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On the road

Abruptly, the phone started to ring. At 5:30 am, the sky was overcast and under the canopy of silver clouds, the birds were flying carelessly, chirping unnecessarily and landing from one tree to the other.

Zenish Niraula, Jan 27 2019

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The Love Letter

It was raining cats and dogs outside with occasional thunder strikes. The mango tree near my room’s window swayed violently to the wind, hitting the window pane several times to the point that I was worried it would shatter the glass.

Ashvin Oli, Jan 20 2019

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Ode to a little flower

Ten years hence, a book reminds me of her. She was my favourite student. Not that she showed that she was smart, or that she was smart at all—but something about her always made me like her: her attentiveness.

Shailaja Upadhyaya, Jan 20 2019

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The brightest star

Do we really turn into a star after our demise?” she asked in disbelief. With a sly smile on her face, Sita pulled her daughter in her lap and replied, “Yes! We transform into one of those bright stars after our death.

Aadesh Subedi, Jan 13 2019

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The Songbird

After my Aabai, my grandma’s mother, died, I have been tending the plants of her mini-garden on the terrace. Aabai traded guavas, plums, and pomegranates with the nearby construction workers in return of empty cement bags. In those bags, she planted cucumbers, tomatoes, cauliflowers, and spinaches.

Kabita Sen, Jan 13 2019

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Notes from Ratnapark

On a recent Saturday noon, I was sauntering silently in Ratnapark, weaving through the crowd. Walking aimlessly around this part of the town has been my favourite pastime for quite some time now—for a guy like me, who studies in Trichandra and shares a dingy rented room with a friend, it is a kind of cost-effective solution for entertainment.

Amit Sharma, Jan 06 2019

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