Kathmandu, you are in my thoughts and dreams. Ever since I heard about the destruction by the earthquake I have been dreaming about Kathmandu every single night. It’s not that I didn’t dream about Kathmandu before but now the intensity of dream is too high.

For the last 8 years since I ran away from home until I moved to Norway last August, Kathmandu has been my home. Basantapur Durbar Square was where I spent most of my mornings and evenings. I spent time drinking tea in Pasang didi’s chiya pasal, contemplated life sitting on the stairs of hippie temple (Maju Dewal), met friends, roamed around like a nomad, I also spent many late evenings feeling depressed and crying alone in the dark in front of Nautale Durbar. 😦 It always gave me strength. After crying to myself, I would convince myself that these dark phases will pass and I will walk happy again. Basantapur had that power to give me so much strength and positive energy.

Now that it stands there destructed, the images I see on facebook and news just breaks my heart. I feel helpless. I only wish that I could give it much needed strength and be there the way it had been with me. Going through these pictures I question myself: ‘Will it ever be the same again?”

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