Shreejana Duwal

I sit and watch people coming and going in the courtyard. They worship God in their own ways. I see elders, adults, and children alongside their parents with puja thalis. Parents hold their toddlers’ hands, teaching them to perform puja and touch the gods for blessings.

The farms are filled with houses, and I can no longer see the fields.

My identity lies in this deep sense of belongingness and ownership. The language I speak, the clothes I wear, the food I eat, the values I hold, and the festivals I celebrate define who I am.

Whenever I go to my old house, which is now made of concrete, I go to the roof, look at all the surroundings, and think about how much time has changed.

Growing up I never imagined that the place I was raised would linger so vividly in my memory. Born in the heart of Bhaktapur, you could find a temple, or god and goddess at every turn.