Thnx everyone!! SNDY bhauju!! Glad that u r understaning my story!! :P Rythm honey, It is the life that play game with us and all we can do is just flow with it!! I just wanted to show how life plays on!! :) Everything life does, its all for good sooner or later!! :) Glad u liked it!! :D *************************************** They had reached Hile on the reserved rugged Land Rover jeep. The driver was a retired gurkha and a funny person in his late 40s. His funny jokes about the wars in Falkland Island had made the journey even easier; He would compare the tragedies of war there with Nepal whenever he would see maoist banners on the roadside of Koshi highway. “Sir, Pahile bidesh ma gaayera ladiyo, aafnai desh ma ladai dekhnu parne raichha aahile!! Dukha lagchha herera!!” He would share his feelings. Aakash was no mood in sharing anything; He was engrossed more in his own thoughts but would nod and would say yes no from time to time. The road itself was a marvel among the hill roads with innumerable hairpin bends and majestic scenarios and the journey had just begun now. There was more long turning road ahead of him; and he had felt that seeing the abundance of rebel outfit even at most reachable parts. “Yehin ho aasti bomb padkayeko tnihaarule; 10 12 jana army ni markeo thyo kyare!!” The driver said when they reached near Malbase. They passed through the the cone forests and several tea gardens before they reached the hazy town of Hile. The sun had just risen from the eastern mountains shading golden rays over the hazy town. The haze as always had covered Hile and the warm smell of the tumbas and sukuti was well drifting over shiny little town. They had stopped for there for a cup of tea and some light breakfast: chana tarkari and some eggs with selroti. They had convinced the driver to take them to the point until the jeep goes. The road was dusty and muddy starting from Hile down toward Pakhribas up to Leguwahgat; giving enough jolts to make anyone go haywire. They would find people going the same way on foot. Typical village people clad in daura surwal and fariya choli and occasional kurta surwals. It was different world out there. They had just passed through the Pakhribas on further terrible road RNA had constructed just few months ago when couple of people waved for a lift. There was still couple of space left in jeep and Aakash decided to pick them up. “Liyera jam dai! Khali chha, Bhada uthyo bhane tapain nai linu!!” He offered the driver and he was happy to get extra profit. “Kahan samma?” Driver asked. “Jaana ta Leguwa jaane ho!! Tara gadi pugchha ki pugdaina??” The skinny man clad in Dhaka topi, shirt and trouser and carrying a backpack in his early thirties answered. He had two children along with him and shy woman on her late 20s was beside him clad in Kurta. “Basaun na!” Driver made offer. “Bhada ni!!” the man asked. “Herera chya kharcha dinu na!!” Driver said. He sat in the jeep along with Aakash’s guide. He was a school teacher at Pyauli Bhanjyang. A rural part of Bhojpur; and had just came back from Dhankuta. The talks would never roam over from common talks. Aakash’s guide had warned him earlier that after Hile there is a new government out there; and he must take extra care. Aakash kept quite most of time. They had just reached the mid point up when they reached the landslide and jeep could go no further. “Aaba 12 km jati chha yehan baata.” The teacher declared. Thanking the driver they moved on down to the Leguwaghat. The trek was straight downhill and the teacher and guide had determined some of their common relatives during the downhill trek. It was well past mid afternoon when they reached Leguwaghat and they stopped for the lunch. Leguwaghat was a small town just starting to grow with road approaching from dhankuta settled at the banks of Arun River. The dusty road had made it approachable but still it was far away from the eyes of development. There were several poles without wires and there was not even single phone in the whole area. It looked like as if the wanted to move on forward in an astonishing pace but there was a steep climb right in front of it; and it was crawling through it. Aakash could feel strange eyes piercing for him around the newly forming bazaar. He could not determine the common people from rebels: they all looked same and have curious eyes for him and his outfit. He was the only one clad in a branded half pant, a Reebok sweat shirt and nice piece of sneakers complete with an Adidas cap. He was stranger among his own people; and he can feel it through their eyes. “Sir, Aaja Jarayotar basinchha hola.” His guide concluded. “Ok!!” He answered. They had some fish and rice at Leguwaghat and they ascended towards Jarayotar. They have entered the Bhojpur and now on completely new territory: land where central government existed nowhere. ***************************************