He rides on a bus going back home. He looks tired, sleepy but remains vigilant like a tiger

The bus was bombarded during a protest but the wheels work!

As bus leaves Kathmandu, he looks through the broken window; a pieces of glass hanging with the window, now dances with the wind next to him!

The outside view does not look new. Jungles look the same, at one time, He spotted the route he took to group with his friends.

He eats Dal Bhat Tarkari at Mugling and after six hours he reaches to his final destination from where he must walk to his home.

Belly is empty and so is the wallet, so he looks around to spot a shop where he used to eat for free under such situations. He shook his head, the shop was burnt to ashes a long time ago.

He goes to a nearby shop. Eats some snacks from a owner who looks at him standing at  a distance. Slowly you can see a huge gap in between the two. He misses his friend. Wiping his tears like a child, he asks the shop owner, do you know anyone by the name Gopal who used to run a small convenient shop here?

The man, upon frowning, replies, oh you mean Gopal Nepali. Yes. He was one of my best friend too. Now, You are back, unbelievable! After they tore down his shop, he grabbed his family; 1 year old baby, wife, old dad and mum and headed for India. That’s all I know.

He cries real loud now. He spends the whole night there, then early in the morning heads for his home. Walking up and down the snail trials with a sheer determination to see his family; two little hungry kids, old dad and mum, and his slavery and beautiful wife.

He finally comes to the area. Looks around and finds nothing where he once had a home full of life. As he bends down to grab the ashes by palm, an old man appears and says, oh my son! Where have you been all these times? You came too late, Gopal came here before they burnt our home. He took the kids and your wife with him to a safer place.

He fells down on the floor. Now he imagines the pain of falling down! He remembers his aiming, triggers, fingers and shoots. He cries, ashes swirl up in the air, and the old man goes down the hill to the unknown destination….

This is a fiction, if someone’s real life matches with this story, please consider a pure coincidence.