Shirish Writes

I remember when I was in my 8th grade, it was the first day after summer vacation. Our Nepali language teacher had given us some creative vacation homework to work. After few discussions on how we spend our vacation, she started a discussion on the questions that he had given us. Of which one work was to write any 10 news. She asked one of the guys sitting next to our seat and make him read his work. In between, he said a news that just devastated my seat partner into tears. He said that the great English singer Enrique Iglesias had died a day ago. It was hard for me to control her now, she was crying. I asked him if it was real or not. He just insisted it is true news. I felt very sorry for that. My seat partner used to share me every song she felt really good of the singer. After the language period was over, the guy just came to our seat and said that he was lying because he didn’t have any news to share. Oh, I just felt so relief for my seat partner, she also started to smile and p

On one night of end summer, we three sitting on a motorbike were travelling through the roads of Banepa. I felt the wild breeze of air through my ears, flipping my hair back and forth. Middle there was Kusum and the rider was Shashank. I was adjusting myself at the end and all three were much scared whenever bumps arrived. This was not normal things for us to do. We haven't planned this day any before. Shashank and me were classmate before the pandemic. But since the style of teaching has changed after pandemic, only 30 students are allowed in the classroom. He was a student of Electrical and Electronics Communication engineering student and I was student of Electrical and Electronics Power engineering. Kusum was our senior but a good friend of ours. We had a lots of memories we made in the last rainy, cold day   winters deciding what to wear in the most cold days and end up with printed trousers, boots, down jackets and scarf over our head through our ears, walking like zombie thr