The White Rose

Garima Adhikari  The sun does not rise in Vyborg. At least not in the way it used to. It merely bleeds through the smoke– an anemic smear through the soot-stained clouds. The air in Vyborg is heavy too, with silence deeper than the sunken eyeballs of the ordinary. The clatters of boots on frostbitten cobblestones echo on narrow alleyways, mingling with the hiss of boiling stew and sobs of children

News

Poetry

Fiction

The Script of Life

Eagam Khaling Life should not be viewed as a mere event. This is why birth and natural death cannot be classified as events in the

The White Rose

Garima Adhikari  The sun does not rise in Vyborg. At least not in the way it used to. It merely bleeds through the smoke– an

Sitting Stunned

Eagam Khaling The woman, lighting the firewood in the earthen oven, says to her six-year-old son, “Akash! Go and see what your father is doing

A Man was Shot in Broad Daylight

Kamal Kanta Dhungel On 19th June 2014 Ponta Negra Beach was unusually crowded. People from different part of the Brazil and even from opposite corner

Interview

My Musings with Padma Devkota

Arun Sharma In my fingers I have this little blue cover book, THE DARK,  BLUE SEA! I turn the pages of the book: “… something

Book Review and Criticism