Stories By 'AMRIT POUDEL'

I am oil

AMRIT POUDEL, May 01 2019

My parents sowed the seedFed me, watered meI am now mustardToo early to be eaten
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“People often don’t like it when I keep my hair long, so I cut it short”, she said in a faint voice. I pursed my lips and frowned, she noticed it and asked me if I liked it. I smiled. I was never one to judge people based on their style or even on their philosophies of life. However, here I was, in a situation where my answer would make a difference—to her and to me.
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I was sitting on an old wooden plank staring at the squirrels playing with each other and searching for walnuts around the trees. There were people passing by, and here I was observing the environment to try to understand the law of nature—the law of impermanence.
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It was a Friday morning when I went to the balcony with a cup of coffee. I glanced at the leaves strewn around the backyard. Yesterday, they seemed to be yellowish, but today they had become brownish.
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She was standing on the balcony staring at the birds flying high in the sky in the dusky evening. The cool breeze blowing down on her was caressing her face.
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My windows have changed. The views I used to have on places through the windows a month before have changed. It’s been almost a decade, I took a glance out of my window today and I am in a different place with farsighted views.
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