Idea I picked up from a popular website (yep u guessed it right). Let's make our own version. I will be posting mine next.

"I lost her Abhi! I lost our Sneha!!" I could not hold my tears while holding her body to calm her down. It was my idea to name her Sneha. Our daughter. Our love….
“hello, Abhi. How are you?”
I met her just like that in the hospital lobby, after 3 years. Same smile, same dreamy eyes. I still remember the smell of her body. 
“I am okey, Preti! ” I mumbled
“me too” the little girl giggled
“Hi dear, what is your name?”
"Sneha!"she blushed…
Silence dripped from empty words and I could not fill my wife’s void.

HOw come I didn't see these talents earlier? I guess I just wasn't following up with Sajha too often.
Poonte's story is quite impressive..a good twist.

DallukoSanu, nice story, I felt bad for the fetus.

Georgian, keep writing please.

Behoove, we need more from you. I've realized its hard to write an effective short story without an end twist; you have accomplished that feat.



Here's one by the all time great Hemingway:

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

Yall are talen , thanks

One of the best thread I've ever read in Sajha unlike "Sex", "girls" , and blah blah....

Samir grew up in Kathmandu and Salim in Lahore. They met at Nebraska university. One day Samir had an accident and Salim's blood group matched his rare A negative.

Twenty-two years earlier. Samir's father met Fatima during college graduate party in Lahore. Noone would ever know they were half brothers.

I rock on the chair thinking deeply about life - running my hand over my disheveled face. I feel like a philosopher. Darn! my nostrils are clogged again. Enraged, I dig my nose mercilessly, get those monster-mongrels out, and dispatch them expertly between my thumb and the index finger to the desolate territory.

“I can see you!!!!!!!” She pings me from Skype. To my horror, she’s gone offline! 

'Surje, the ketchup is dripping on the floor? If you don't clean it now, the stain won't go for a while.'

"Whaaat? Yesterday, you didn't close the faucet properly and the water was dripping whole day.  Three days back, the stove was on for god knows how long, and I had to turn it off when I got back. The trash hasn't been picked up for a week.The cigarette stubs have been lying out in the patio for a month. Last year you didn't ....... "

Call him either Sunny, with which he goes by, or Surya, his name on his State ID - too scared to get a Driving License- he will bring you a cup of tea to your bed. Surje?? Not even once.

 He had a dream, so he took off.

He struggled; fought; sacrificed; rose and fell; persevered. Accomplished parts of his dreams -- relinquinshed others.

Now, staring emptily at a flower in a hospice garden, counting his days, he wonders what the dream was all about.

"he wonders what the dream was all about"


That is me I guess.

"ए त पनि ग्यास स्टेशनमा? तिमीहरुलाई मोज छ| अमेरिकामा गाडी ठ्याक्कै ग्यास स्टेशन अगाडी रोक्यो, ग्यास भर्यो, चल्दियो| यहाँ आफु तेलको लाइनमा जर्किन लेर कुरिराख्या, अनि काम नभएर तलाई फोन गर्या |"
अनायाश फोनलाई हेरें, अनि हातमा भएको ग्यासको ह्यान्डललाइ हेरें|
सम्झिएँ, साउले ग्यास हाल्दा फोनमा कुरा नगर भनेको. तुरुन्तै फोन राखें अनि क्रेडिट कार्ड लिएर गाडीको झ्यालतिर गएँ, "here you go sir. Have a good day"

हेलो ब्रोको काजी त जोर्जीएनब्रोको अंकल भन्दा हरीप रैछन !

Hehe.

Halo then looked at One_that_got_away, winked and smiled "hehe."

Couldn't resist.

One that's comment cracked me up when I went back and read Georgian's story.

 We were shopping for our anniversary ring. He put his arms around me
as we were peering through glass shelves.

“Thud”, I heard something fall.

It was him, he had a stroke.

He’s lost his memory, I’ve been fostering him ever since.

He now thinks I am his nurse.

 
I heard someone calling my name.
Tired and agitated of proving myself the sufferance of dilusion, I decide to turn back to the loud and clear chanting of my name.

I see YOU. Running towards me , smiling and calling me.
My whole body shivered, my knees went weak, the symptoms of my dilusion hovered around me.

But wait, why did you stop.

Two feet ahead of me, he holds a little baby girl,  kisses her on the forehead and walks by me greeting , "Bon Matin! Madamosille "

" I am proud to be Nepali!". When I say this, my 28"-chest turns into 36"-chest with breast.  I dont remember those countless arguements I had with Indians about Buddha, Kanchanjungha, Tenzing etc. To hate 'dhotis' (Pet name given to Indian by so called nationalist Nepali like me) is synomyms for nationalism. And I love the socio-political environment I grew up.

"So rahe ho kya?". 

I was terrified as I heard this. I am sure to lose my half an hour pay, ie, 2.5 USD. But, still I am proud to be Nepali.