By Kamala Sarup
Now my uncle is murdered by Maoists. My uncle was taken advantage of by the murderous political system. So his death was grievous enough.
I'm standing next to his dead body with a pain-filled spirit.
He was a great poet. Many people in my family used to tell me that when they met me. As a result, I read most of his poems. Moreover, he used to provide me for my reading of all his poems published himself. How happy he was the day that one of his poems got out.
By David Swanson, World BEYOND War, October 16, 2022
There’s probably not a corner of the Earth lacking talented, creative, and wise composers of lyrics for songs. It’s unfortunate that no nation has been able to locate any of them to assist with its national anthem.
By Yurii Sheliazhenko, World BEYOND War, October 16, 2022
In the media wing of the U.S. military-industrial complex, The Atlantic magazine hosts the loudest team of cheerleaders of war. Using their online archive, you could see that from the first issue in 1857 to the current publications the magazine preserves an old pamphleteering spirit capable of waking up any nest of hornets, as Mark Twain put it in the immortal short story “Journalism in Tennessee.”
Righting the Wrong
By Kamala Sarup
It's the real story.
"I can't be proud unless I'm fortunate enough to marry your friend."
My colleague Bikal spoke, kindling a cigarette while he was sitting by the balcony one night. "You're in Kathmandu." Is she going to protect her youth for you here in the village? "I smiled at him and told him."
That's the real story.
The stable mountain of intact pain collapsed. All the leaves fell and the environment was frightening. My friend Gyanu is out of work. The death of his grandmother was unpleasant. Death pulled down the potential right of her life and she left to never come back.