One day, while segregating and rummaging old stuffs from the neglected box in the garage, I want to accidentally encounter with the long forgotten brown thick book. Dusting off with my wrinkled hand while coughing weakly, adjusting the rim of spectacles to see what it really is as my memory will be reluctant to cooperate with...

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“If I waited till I felt like writing, I’d never write at all.” Anne Tyler. “Tshering, hung ancha?” Karma’s voice announced her arrival before she enters my room. “Chowa cha thab thob thur de ne wai.” I replied without looking at her, continuing to write what I started. “Awoo…mala na nan ta. Laptop kam rang hung ancha mo mastong?” she openly revealed her displeasure for always staying glued...

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