I am from the mango orchards, the fruit of summer from that old mud house and dusty lanes. I am from the undulating paddy fields, and the vast yellow wheat plains.
I am from the endless stretch of marigold, the happy bougainvillea. I am from the painting and reading books, from Rukmini and Nom.
From nani, a small girl and gudiya, a doll. I am from Tarai and hills and, rice and chicken soup. From helping and being honest,
from alcoholism and education. I am from lush green plains, from the deep dark woods, from the compassion that gives you life.