Suburban Tales

Our mothers’ silences

They bring us into this world but the only way we can bring them into the world is by offering our words/work.

Pratibha Tuladhar
Suburban Tales

Warm my hands

The feeling is packed with familiarity and yet it is alarming with someone’s elbow going over her face, some crotch pressed to her side and someone’s garlic breath upon her hair.

Pratibha Tuladhar
Suburban Tales

Two women in a boat and some tea

A dragon fly perches on the oar and she pauses briefly, lets it alight on a bundle of grass parked on the side of the boat, and then rows again

Pratibha Tuladhar
Suburban Tales

Navigating invisible borders

Soap operas were created for housewives, who would watch them after putting their day’s work to rest, as though visiting old friends in the emptiness of their days

Pratibha Tuladhar
Suburban Tales

Pictures of women taking pictures

Here’s a book for every daughter of Nepal

Pratibha Tuladhar
Suburban Tales

Let’s not Barbie

The world created by a toy can be limitless, but it also means something different to every single child

Pratibha Tuladhar
Suburban Tales

How to unlove…

Strip your heart of love, replace body parts he touched, delete photographs from the album

Pratibha Tuladhar
Suburban Tales

We used to be flowering trees

In contrast is Kathmandu with its “width not enough to last a run”, with its sudden gorges and hills

Pratibha Tuladhar
Suburban Tales

Where rivers are not the Phoenix

When rivers are angry, they surge back to life again

Pratibha Tuladhar
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