Maile timro yaad aaucha 

Mamacita (Cita) expects those words as if I were her kin.

As if my skin were dark like Rukesh, and eyes brown like Rukreisha

My family…slightly tanner…a few inches shorter reminds me how foolish the human condition truly is. 

In a vacuum of harmony where differences are both acknowledged and immaterialized it is clear 

When nothing disturbs the balance of nature, the natural order of things reveals itself in all its harmony.

Three decades before I visited Nepal, my father met the scrappy young kids who grew to imprint my life. 

"When I met them they were fearless little kids…with such big hearts”

My childhood was filled with wonder of: who are these mysterious family members that live across the globe.

In 2021 that childhood wonder went away. Cita's embrace felt like coming home to a place I'd never been.

They showed me what true value is—it is not material or monetary. There is no experience that has taught me more.

In their home with concrete floors and tin roof, I found wealth beyond measure. 

In shared meals of rice and lentils, I tasted abundance. In conversations that stretched deep into nights, I discovered richness that no bank account could hold.

They gave me everything while owning almost nothing. They opened their hearts without asking for anything in return. 

The wonder didn't disappear—it transformed. It became something deeper, more profound: the recognition that love transcends borders, that family is not bound by blood or proximity, that the most precious things in life cannot be bought, only given freely.

Three decades of separation dissolved in days. The mountains watched as we became a family, as distance became closeness, as wonder became wisdom.

I remember you. And now, I understand.

Maile timro yaad aaucha