I am from Himalayan bowls.
From cameras and trekking poles.
I am from the land of peace that chants "Om Mani Padme Hum".
(Melodic, aromatic, quiet and free from clamor)
I am from mountains,
frosty peaks fairly near the sparkle of the sun.
I am from the safari through the woods and the earthen lamps lighted around dwellings.
From Sneha and Snigdha.
I am from the pointless debates on the pursuit of endless affection and tenderness.
From "Never grow up." and "Grow up already!"
I am from the sacred scripts of Sanskrit, and the earliest religious practices.
I am from the multicultural nation, Nepal and the cradle of Christianity, Armenia,
hot steamed Momos dipped in achar and Ptichye Moloko Cake topped with chocolate glaze.
From the grandparents that I never met who served their nation with bravery and care.
The mother who left her country to start over in a new culture and language.
The negative films from the old film camera of the first time when my parents met,
Alongside fresh new photographs of yesterday inside the last drawer.
Fresh cut fruits on the table and arms wrapped around one another,
all wide smiles on that photograph is where life began with love.