musings of a Nepali girl

By Pratiksha

This is LOVE

and you will only understand this love if you have been to a cold place with no other source of heating.

The tiny guest houses along the village use improved cooking stoves to cook. The stove made of metal has a pipe that leads the smoke to the open air from their roof. People even say that it consumes less amount of firewood.

So LOVE is neither the stove nor the kettle sat on the stove, but boiling water. At night I would be sat next to the stove waiting for the water to boil so that I could fill my water bottle and keep warm through the chilly night.

Off we go to the field tomorrow. :)

PS: Unimproved stoves = Open fire = Smoke = Teary eyes

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