Anshu Subedi

  I watch her. I watch her die just a little more.  Not with a bang, not with blood anymore, but with the quiet, torturous drip of time.  I hear the screams that never leave her throat, see the tears that never make it to her eyes.  She’s crumbling right in front of me, piece by piece, brick by brick. This house is her coffin, these walls her tomb. And yet, she stays. She stays. This is love," she says, as if love is supposed to break you into shards. Love, Mother?  This isn’t love.  This is death, and you’re alive to feel every second of it. Why don’t you leave? Why don’t you run? Every day you stay here, you’re digging your own grave. I see it. I see you holding the shovel, the weight of it heavy in your hands. It’s like you don’t even notice the dirt you’re piling on yourself, Don’t even notice how it covers your feet, your legs, your chest, Until it’s up to your throat, choking the life from you. Your fingers touch the cold door But you never twist the ...

  What is this rush we’re all caught in?  Why do we treat life like some obstacle course, where the first to check off the boxes wins?  We’ve become machines, haven’t we?  Day after day, we chase after deadlines, dollar signs, promotions. We’ve become masters of efficiency, but terrible students of joy.  We’re on a treadmill, believing that the faster we go, the closer we get to something. But that “something,” is an illusion.  It vanishes the moment we reach for it. Life isn’t a race.  There is no finish line, no cheering crowd waiting with a medal to drape around your neck.  No grand ceremony that celebrates the house you bought, the car you own, or the job title you’ve chased. The truth is, there is no prize for who accumulates the most by the end of this so called journey.  There is no applause for the one who spends their life working for things they can’t carry with them when they’re gone.  Do we think there’s a trophy for the most...

  Currently,looking at life like those two lines we learned about in school, The parallel lines.  You know,always running side by side, always in the same direction, but never touching.  And that’s how I think this life is. The dreams, hopes, things we longed for, they were on one line, and we were on the other, running, always running, but never close enough to reach them. We thought life was like this cruel trick, where we could see what we wanted, it was right there, close enough to feel its presence, but always out of grasp.  We had get frustrated, watching others catch what we couldn’t seeing people live the dreams we had only ever wished for.  And it made us feel small, insignificant, like maybe my fate was to just watch, never to touch. "Why do some people get to live in the stars, while the rest of us are stuck staring at the night?"  I’d think to myself on quiet nights, when everything was too heavy to hold, but too hard to let go. And made peace w...

Picture this:  you’re at your favorite cafe..ready to treat yourself to a delicious pastry. You pull out your phone, confidently initiate the payment via your mobile banking app, and... nothing happens. The app freezes, the server is down, or worse your payment is stuck in digital limbo.  Meanwhile, the cashier looks at you like you just recited the entire Mahabharata in reverse.  You tap, you refresh, you even try the age old trick of turning your phone off and on again. But the payment doesn’t go through. Now you are standing there, awkwardly trying to explain to the cashier why your trendy, high-tech payment method has turned into a stone-age barter system.Frustrating, right? These server glitches aren’t just minor inconveniences they are a systemic issue that plagues the mobile banking landscape in Nepal. Various factors contribute to this problem.  For one, Nepal's internet infrastructure is still developing, with many areas experiencing inconsistent connectivit...

      Imagine a world where sending money home to your family in a remote village is as easy as sending a text message, and the fees? Pennies. That's the promise of Bitcoin and cryptocurrencies. But in Nepal, Bitcoin isn’t just underappreciated it’s downright illegal. Yes, Nepal Rastra Bank (NRB) banned cryptocurrencies back in 2017, and ever since then, any mention of Bitcoin has come with a side of whispered warnings about fraud, money laundering, and unstable economies. Yet, despite this cautious approach, we are ignoring the bigger picture. So, why was Bitcoin banned in the first place ? To be fair, NRB’s concerns were not entirely unfounded. Cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin are decentralized, meaning there’s no central bank or authority governing them. For governments, that’s as terrifying as handing over the economy to a bunch of maverick tech geeks. Without regulation, there was genuine fear that crypto could become a breeding ground for criminal activities money la...

  Alright, accountants, let's talk about something that's not going away anytime soon..   cryptocurrency,Bitcoin, Ethereum, Dogecoin... whatever coin is trending this week, they're here to stay, and we better know how to handle them in the books. Here's the deal: The big guys like IAS and IFRS haven’t exactly handed us a clear rulebook for crypto. So, we have got to get creative and apply existing standards to these digital assets. Step One: Is it a Currency? Nope. Cryptocurrencies don’t meet the definition of cash under IAS 32. It’s not “legal tender” since you can’t pay your taxes with Bitcoin (unless you’re in El Salvador). So, don't slap it under "cash or cash equivalents." Step Two: What the Heck Is It Then? Cryptocurrency is usually treated as an intangible asset under IAS 38, unless you’re a trader and treating it as inventory under IAS 2. Why intangible? Because you can’t physically touch Bitcoin, but it’s still worth something (at least, until El...

                              Will I ever have a home again?  The kind of home that feels like a second skin, where every corner is familiar, every sound comforting?  What if I leave, and no matter where I go, nothing ever feels quite right?  Can I really step away from the warmth of my mother’s voice calling me to breakfast, from the way my father’s cough echoes through the house in the morning?  I’ve lived my whole life with these things.  How do I let go of them, knowing I might never find them again? What if I leave and never feel safe again?  They tell you that it's just another step, that you’ll ‘adjust.’ But how can I be sure?  How do I know I won’t wake up one day and feel like a stranger in my own life, in a house that’s supposed to be mine but feels so foreign?  Will I still be the girl who laughs at the dinner table with my siblings, who can walk into the kitchen...

                                    Do you ever think…?                     Do you ever think about, How the world looks through the eyes of a                                          Woman?                          Really think.  Not the sugarcoated fantasies they sell in books.                                Or The kind of feminist slogans slapped on protest                              signs for show.                                 I...

                         Lovee, love, love.                       Oh, what a nuisance.                              Stop it already.  Everywhere you go, it’s “love this, love that”like we haven’t got enough problems without this never ending parade of emotions.  And don’t get me wrong, I’m guilty of it too, blabbering about love like it’s some magical cure for everything.  I’ve had my moments, staring at the ceiling, playing sad songs, thinking, “Oh, love will fix it.”                      Yeah, right. Fix what?                         My sleep schedule?                              My sanity? ...

                  You think I didn’t notice, didn’t see it all?  I watched. I watched day after day, as it got worse As it wrapped itself all around me. pretending I was invisible. It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it?  To be wounded so many times that the pain becomes like background noise , just a faint hum at the back of your mind.  You bleed so often that the red becomes a color you're used to seeing, like a sunset you’ve learned to stop watching.  And yet, here I stand, alone in the dark by choice this time.   You could say I’m numb, but that would imply I still feel something. No, I’ve gone further. I’ve stopped caring. I used to fight back, to scream, to rage against the storm, thinking someone, anyone, would hear me.  That someone would realize what they’d done what they’d turned me into.  But they didn’t. People like to pretend they’re heroes, don’t they?  They love to be saviors in stories where t...

                                                      I remember those nights. The chains never rattled. They were invisible. Wrapped tight around mummy's wrists, her ankles, her heart. She never tried to break free… No. She accepted them, like they were part of her flesh, like they were stitched into her skin. "What is a woman?" I used to wonder. Is a woman a shadow, dragged by chains through the night, caught between the fists of a man she loves? Is she meant to be quiet , her screams buried under the weight of his anger? "Yes." That’s what she told me with her eyes. Her swollen, tearless eyes. He’d hit her. Again. And again. And she would stare at me with those hollow, dead eyes, whispering, “This is what love does.” Is it? Is love a shackle that binds one soul to another? Is it supposed to be pain? Is it supposed to break you? Is it supposed to...

                              Masks and Mirrors You know... it’s funny. When I was little, I thought if I just stayed quiet enough, if I just made myself small enough, no one would notice. Maybe then the shouting would stop, the crashing sounds of fists through walls and the way her sobs echoed through the floors, seeping into me like poison. But they never did stop. The screams were always there. Always. She never spoke about it afterward, my mother. She would just wear her mask of silence. A mask of bruises hidden beneath makeup, like it was part of her skin, part of her role in this play that never seemed to end. I think I learned how to wear that mask before I even learned how to speak. It’s strange, isn't it? To be so young and already know how to disappear. How to become whatever people needed me to be. Quiet. Obedient. The good daughter. The strong one. The one who kept it all together while pieces of me f...

                                           Red The floor was red.It was everywhere spreading, creeping, like it was alive. It wasn't any colour or paint', it was thick and wet, filling the air with a smell that that made my stomach twist. The room felt like it was closing in, the walls breathing, the shadows Stretching. My heart pounded so bad I thought it might burst. I wanted to scream, but the sound was stuck in my throat, trapped by the terror that froze me in place. The red was all i could see, all I could think about, and it made me feel like I was drowning in it.. I wanted to look away, but it pulled me in, showing me things I didn't want to see things I couldn't unsee. I couldn't move. I couldn't look away. I stared at it, wondering if it could ever be washed away or if it would just sink into the cracks like the secrets we were never allowed to tell. The air was cold, s...

                            The flick of the lighter always seemed louder in the dark. It broke through the silence like a scream I never let out. The flame slayed for a moment, fragile, uncertain, much like me. But I lit it anyway, let the smoke fill the room, let it suffocate me. There's no beauty in breathing normal,anyways. I was never one for words. I was never one for loud voices, for speaking my mind, for telling anyone what I really felt. No, it wasn’t about fear it was about survival. Every time I tried, it was like throwing words into a void. They had disappear, swallowed by the air, gone as quickly as they left my lips. The room is shrinking, walls closing in like they have forgotten how to breathe. I pace between the shadows, an animal trapped in its cage, clawing at the silence that tastes of betrayal and regret. The sky is out there, but I haven’t seen it in days, haven’t felt the sun that once kissed my...