Grandmother’s Love


Standing four and a half feet tall,

Wears an old woolen shall.

Yet, haven’t seen a beauty such,

I love my grandmother much.


Hardships and failure; she has survived the fall,

Stories, life, advice; she shares it all.

Yet, another day she still got a bunch,

My grandmother loves me much.


Assignment, test, projects; I’ve got it all,

With guilt, I answer her call.

Yet, expects me for lunch,

My grandmother loves me much.


Three daughters and one son,

Six granddaughters and three grandsons.

Yet, lonely for Saturday’s lunch,

My grandmother still loves me much.



The Only Stagnant Love

Dear Emma,

I was twelve years old when I received a Chelsea F.C. kit for my birthday. It was a white kit, contrary to Chelsea’s blue-colored home kit and it was of a bigger size as well. The three blue stripes on the sides and swaying blue lines in the middle complemented the white. That day I fell in love with Chelsea and the beautiful game.

At school, football was a popular sport and we used to play in every recess time. Every morning, as I set off to school, I never thought of what classes I had that day or if I had completed any homework. Instead, I pondered how I would dribble against the defender and how many goals I would score. Even at home, while doing homework or studying for exams, my hands held books and my feet played with a football.

During the weekends, I would glue myself to the television. Right after lunch time, I would switch on the TV and watch all the pre-match shows, matches played in the premier league and the post-match analysis. I knew the names of players of each premier league team and I would know the scores of each match, along with scorers and even the minute the goals were scored. I was absolutely in love with the game.

Amongst the midst of my craze for the game, Chelsea always held a special place in my heart. I jump with joy when Chelsea win a match or score a goal, and feel disappointed and angry when the team loses. No matter what is going on in my life, watching Chelsea play makes me forget everything.

Times flew by but the love remained. As high school hit us, friends bought Playboy boots instead of football cleats, and recess became time to check out girls rather than sweat on the field. The love for the game was not lost but it matured. We did not play every day like we used to but drew out time from dates and study to go out and play in the futsal grounds.

To most friends out there, the love is still strong. And, although divided by favorite teams, we are all united by the love for the game.

It’s crazy how a club thousands of miles away in a foreign land can sway how I feel. It’s the kind of true love I wished to find, and how lucky I am, it has still stayed.



My Favorite English Word

Dear Emma,

What is your favorite word? Do you even have one?

Eight months back, when I gave an interview for my first job, the interviewer had asked me, “What is your favorite English word?” I did not have a favorite word nor did I think I should have one. But, then again, I was applying for the post of an editor, and not to have one, I thought I would sound like a hypocrite. However, I was honest with my prospective employers and I answered the truth.

As I traveled back home that day, I pondered on that question. “If I had to choose one such word, what would that be?” The answer to “What?” was no so difficult. The big question was “Why?” Why would I choose one particular word among thousands? It was a much deeper question than I had thought it to be.

Eight months fast forward that day, I was hit with the same question again, but posed differently. A Facebook post by UNICEF asked, “One word to change the world. What’s the word?”

Facebook post by Unicef

And, spontaneously one word popped into my mind and I commented immediately.


The word meant much more in the given context. We live in a world crowded by people’s judgment – shaped by their upbringing and beliefs. We see the world through the glasses painted by society. We never pause and think, truth is relative and what we believe is good or bad, is not the same for everyone. We never try to see things from others perspective, but stand on our own beliefs and wrong everyone else. If only people understood the gist of perspective, maybe the world would have been a better place.




Lost in Reality

Dear Emma,

Do you remember that day on the phone? We carved out a world of our own. “I am a peacock,” you said. “And I would dance with grace.” I was a lion; ruler of the mystic plain. We went on and on. There was no limit to what we could become. We were two souls lost in imagination. But, found each other in our own creation.

I travel back to that day, again and again, and wonder why it is not the same. I can’t isolate a single moment and blame it for all the things that have changed.  I think of all the time that has gone by, and wonder if that’s the reason why. Or maybe, I just grew up. And think it’s silly to make things up.

But, No! The answer is rather different. It’s actually monotonous and mundane. Technology is the culprit. It has got me habituated 24/7. I have no time to spare. I’m constantly online to see what people share. My mind is always occupied. The world is open to me with just a few words to type.

Work, Study, and Play. All on a five-inch display.  It has consumed my imagination and hooked me with worldly realization. I have lost my creativity. I’m lost in reality.




Start of Something New

Dear Emma,

My heart finds solace when I talk to you.

Recent weeks have been a lot messy than I had expected. At the end of my semester, I looked forward to productive and relaxing days ahead; I had even made a list of books that I wanted to read. But rather the days have been just as busy as the working days.

I have been juggling my time between study and work for the last four months. There was a phase before starting college when I had all the time in the world. I was desperate to do something. Now I long for days where I do not have to. But I’m to blame myself.

My desire to learn new things, reluctance to say ‘no’ to new challenges are what got me in this situation. And now, continuing the chain of tasks, today, I’m starting something new; something I had never imagined to do.


The idea was planted in my head a while back. I had been working as an editor for a year and was heavily involved in writing-related activities. So much that it had become a part of me.

That is when I started considering writing as a career itself. The idea sparked in my head but it lacked the fuel to grow into a fire. I would not have started blogging so early if the college had not pushed it. It acted as the missing fuel.

So here I am now, on Nepalese New Year’s Day, writing to you about the start of my writing quest.