Dikshya bhattarai

She is a cupcake with some lemon on top Cares when needed and ignores when not Her gesture are kind but her words are blunt Sweet and sour irresistible not to love. Best friend to her mom, Her enthusiasm is for non to stop Her belief may depend on logic or faith  Yeah they may disagree, but can't hate  She has got the maturity of an old soul and innocence of a child  The type whose laughter could fight the wild  She is true to herself and people around  Her friendship is something that does not bound. Free is her ways and thoughts perhaps  Dives right in for a humble chat Sometimes she can be a hard one to please Little secret there be real now see where you reach. I am lucky to have her always by my side  Someone who makes things easier not to hide My little cupcake who brighten the mood  With a hint of a lemon blended real good.

  That day my eyes were opened 5 minutes before the alarm went off . I woke up at 7. The sun was already shining bright and warm.I took a bath and freshen up. Checked my mail. Sat at the chair with a cup of tea and my book for an hour. I got out of the hotel room at 10. The day had started to heat up. I had worn a light white shirt and cotton pants. I reached the village after a half hour drive. I had planned to talk to the locals that day about their lifestyle. I talked to the leader of the tribe for some time. He told me they had lived there for almost 20 generations. Some local woman offered me goat's milk. I had never tried it before. It was thicker than cow's milk and sweeter. This was my first visit to Asia. I found the people there kind and welcoming.  Some girl nearly in her early twenties came running towards the group I was talking to. She said something with the terror in her voice. I did not understand a word she said but definitely felt some trouble. Everybody ran...

  Staring at the distant tree, Trying to escape from the time to be free Wanted to hide from every eye. Everything around for me was a disguise. Someone stood next to me, Snow white skin, mushroom head  Big dark eyes with a pretty round face. She distracted my escape asking me my name. This is how the story began. Soon we started to play, Walked home the same way, Ate tiffin together at the deck, Finished each other's sentences. She looked like my little sister but defended me as my armor. Scolded me like a mother but cried after like a newborn. Pushed me forward in every steps Became my strength when I was afraid. Smoothen my life when Iwas out of pace She made me forget to seek God's help. Now remembering the14 years phase I see laughter, I see craze. I see immature us,  I see cute us, I see crying us, I see funny us, I see disappointed us, But yes whatever it may be I see us.   Today being Ocean’s away, We rarely talk for many days. But when she whispers her silly...

In the village called Occult Valley, there lived a small family of Dove. The valley had amazing weather and fertile soil. The cold breeze from the hills did not allow for the temperature to exceed above 35°C in summer. In winter, the sun used to come up forcing the clouds at least for some hours keeping the day warm. People there used to harvest three times a year. Though they didn’t have enough money to buy fancy things, they had enough food to eat. The valley had many vegetation and medical plants. People there believed more in natural healing rather than synthetic medicines. Dove was the middle child among her two sisters. Her older sister Hope was the wise one. She was going to be 20 next month. She had beautiful long black hair which she used to part on side and clutch at the back. She was a loving elder sister and a great motivator. Her parents used to concern Hope with every decision they make. Hope was the strongest pillar of the family. She wanted to be a teacher as her fathe...