Fourth Of July.



Somewhere far away in freedom land, two Nepali friends live in an economical house. Amit was one, and the other was Roshan. Both were ready for the coming holiday ?forth of July. Their patio was decorated with lady liberty and flashy American flag, and refrigerator filled with chilled Heinken.

They ventured in U.S to study computer science, after working two jobs and giving up sleepless nights they finally had made it through. They had even succeeded many fellow white friends and found a better job. Life was a game of snake and ladders for these folks.

Amit, he was a guy conversed with what society calls an admirable moral values. He was a handsome young man who had never stolen anything worth more than 5 dollars, never fought nor lied, unless necessary. Roshan on the other hand, was a care-free fellow, who hardly even called home in Nepal.

Fourth of July was nearer, in fact it was tomorrow. It was a tradition of sort that they had started four years ago. The tradition was of this sort ? everybody in their neighborhood were invited, including the old black man Mr. Crow, the Vietnamese Mr. Ting, and all his fellow white, Hispanics and colored friends making it the biggest fiesta on all year long.

After all the needed errands for coming morning, tired them, sat to watch MTV. Breathing in and out, softly both of them were drowned in silence. Suddenly Amit jumped! ?Roshand do you ever think of going back to Nepal?? Roshan laughed and held the reply. Roshan, he was a care free man yet he had a heart which was always pinched because of his lingering thoughts. The thoughts were of his family, the lonely old father and mother. He wandered sometimes if their demise was of a sudden cause who would burn their senile wrinkled body.

So the July Party was here, a big party. Both still sitting on same couch watching MTV.

After two videos had flew about Roshan steadly inquired on Amit the same flaky question, ?So are you planning about returning?? Amit bit his lips, minute passed, it became minutes and slowly it was 5 minutes. He could not answer, so he therefore raised another question, ?What in the earth is there to go back for?the damn lofty brown soil??

Amit exonerated his growing frustrations. Roshan as usual smiled and took another pinch on his beating heart.

I liked the story, no actually loved it. How about having part 2 of the story.

Thax meera for coming in and enjoying the story. I happen to notice simple gramatical errors as I was reading it the second time, so I hope you edited as you read thru.

I also had a thought of this one page story to be of several pages, but as I came to the point where Amit raises his last question, I really could not write more.

Humaness in him drowned his moral values. His returning to raped and beaten Nepal was not possible. Comfort, pleasure and security he had here was not guaranteed there. That is the reason I stopped the story right there raising a question, "What in the earth is there to go back for, the damn lofty brown soil ? "

Thax again

aba msn ma bhetula :P

"What in the earth is there to go back for, the damn lofty brown soil ? "

This statement has made me think. I know I would want to go back to Nepal to visit, but to live there forever, would I want to do that? I don't know, at this point in my life I think not, I might change my mind in some years.

Ok I am waiting for some ppl to yell at me for saying I don't plan to return back :D

On a serious note: how many of u plan to return back to Nepal to settle there?

kaile confused.. kaile perplexed!! jeez bhau bhau bhau!!!

"On a serious note: how many of u plan to return back to Nepal to settle there? "

Like you said sis.. at this point in my life.. i dont think i would.. but who knows what lies in the future?