Journalism Kathmandu

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 06, 2016

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Submitted: October 06, 2016



Journalism Kathmandu


The day was 20th October 2016, the sun was at its’ topmost, the warmth of the sun had made the image of the horizon blur, and under the shade of the tree was a young man, tall about six feet and with a camera around his neck he was waiting desperately for a picture to publish in tomorrow’s newspaper. The year awaited festival of Dashain had ended but the festival season was still in fashion. Tihar was yet to come and the city of temple was like a no-man’s land; barren as hell. Most of the population of Kathmandu are people who have their permanent address, their home in some rural area of Nepal and are just working in Kathmandu. So as the holiday season of Nepal hits it, the capital city becomes a foreign land and people like migrating birds start searching for their home town; their native land. But Rakesh was a journalist and as a journalist he never got the holiday and so today when rest of Nepal was finishing off their today’s newspaper, he was searching for a picture to make their tomorrow’s newspaper better.

He was at The Kailash Dadha and he walked on the way to Pashupathi Temple and towards the Baneshowre from Pingalisthan and took a turn towards an inner road, he was just exploring the city, the lane was as strangely bare; no person could be seen in a long distance, and most of the stores were closed. Today was unusual, mostly in Kathmandu at this time of year it’s either raining or the winter has already hit the capital but today was a hot day. Rakesh was tired of walking so, he went to a café and ordered a cold drink and the waiter who also happened to be the store owner bought a Coke-Cola. Rakesh asked “Dai is there a one in the fridge”. The Coke-cola was not cold but just then the shop-keeper said “Bhai, the light has been out for last nine hours”. Rakesh then thought to himself “Man I should tell him about my day”. He then said “What can we expect its Nepal” But just as he was taking a sip of that hot Coke-cola he heard the men talk in the next table. The words were not that clear but they sounded something like “… Let’s go in that Big red house…. Robbery … money” Rakesh could not conclude much but it sure sounded like robbery.

A few minutes later the three men from the next table stood up and started to move. Keeping in mind not to create a mess or cause any harm to himself Rakesh finished his Coke-cola and started to follow them. They walked a few blocks and took a right. He didn’t take the same right and instead walked straight forward and took the second right. The tension was starting to build up in Rakesh’s head, hundreds of thoughts ran through his mind. He was right around the corner waiting for the men to start walking when they suddenly climbed a wall and jumped into the house. Rakesh was sure that this was the real deal, if he got the photo evidence of this crime it would be huge for him so he waited a little and then jumped into the house himself. He walked up the stairs looking for open doors. He saw the three men robbing the house and tried to click a pic but the angle was not right and the pic would not be good enough for the newspaper and so he decided to move closer. He went in and took a pic but he had forgotten the flash was on, the three men saw a flash and started looking for its origin he ran and hid under a bed but suddenly his mobile phone rang the three men found him. They looked like they were high on drugs, they punched him and robbed him but as they were going out they saw the camera their pic in it and so did they see the card of a journalist. They had thought that Rakesh was a house keeper who would not even bother to complain but when the figured out he was a journalist they knew they were in trouble so intoxicated by drugs they killed him and ran away leaving the camera in the place. The police found the body after the home owner came back after the holiday. Neither his family nor his office had any idea he was dead, they found the camera. And you would expect that the culprits were caught but it is Kathmandu, in a city of 49.45 km square there lives a population of 1.003 million the police did not have time for one journalist. And Newspaper just printed a short description of his death in the fourth page. But the irony is for the picture for which he was killed it never even got published, the newspaper said it was and old story and would not find a place in their newspaper column.  So the charm of holiday season in the South-Asian capital over charmed the death of the journalist and the lives of the people just continued as they used to.

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