Stories By 'Pranaya SJB Rana'
In Copenhagen, the skies are perpetually black, and the rain is incessant. Each moment that the clouds part and the sun peeks through feels heaven-sent. In this dark, dank city, it is easy to feel depressive and despondent.
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Tags: Copenhagen
At around the age of one, the earliest milestone in every human’s life occurs—they take their first step. From crawling about on all floors or being carried by a parent, the child, for the first time, becomes independently mobile. The world is suddenly all around them and under their feet. This is the instance when the child realises, they have autonomy.
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In last decade or so, cycling has seen a resurgence in Kathmandu. Once simply the province of the poor, the bicycles that trawl the streets cost upwards of a lakh or two, more than a motorbike.
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Kathmandu’s summers are unforgiving. The sun at its zenith is a callous god, streaming down sweltering heat that brings beads to any unadorned shoulders.
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The skies are clear, the sun is warm, the grass is brilliant green and there is much cool wine to be had. Out in the thousands of parks that break Vienna up into islands of concrete amid rivers of green, there are hammocks and lawn chairs, beach towels and bikinis, sunscreen and suntan.
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Sometime in the years 1991-92, Yugoslavia ceased to exist as a country. But it persists, in imagination, in memory. In the cities of the former Yugoslav republics, there linger vestiges of the past.
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