“I knew I had to move my family from such a difficult place. I knew if I could take them to the nearby town then I would have no trouble finding a job. Though skin and bones, I had strength in me. The next day, I asked mother to pack everything into a bag. I told her to throw away the broken pot. I felt we were not going to need it. That night after we reached the town, I went around asking for shelter and food and a kind-hearted man let us sleep in his animal shed. But how could I sleep? I watched my sisters shiver to the cold wind of the morning while my mother coughed hard to alarm the animals near us. The next afternoon, God had mercy on us. I met a Sherpa who agreed to take me to Namche if I carried his 50 kilos of weight. I agreed and on the sixth day, we reached Namche. He counted me 30 rupees for my labour and with that money I bought two warm rugs made of sheep wool and hurried back home. The night I reached home, I bought some rice, meat and alcohol and we all ate, for the first time as a family. There were second servings too, for all of us, and mother looked happy. There was some laughter after all. I will never forget that day. My sisters were finally warm and slept like there was no tomorrow. I knew better days were coming. So I worked hard. I never said no to work. I did everything that came my way. I gained the trust of the villagers and after a few years, I was able to buy some land. That changed everything. I was no more a slave to anyone. I took care of my family like a son would. My sisters are married and today and they have become grandparents. Though mother and father are no more, I still cry to the pain I had endured seeing the hopelessness in mother’s eyes. I am 84 years old now and I am still not afraid to break stones or sleep in the graveyard if you dared me. What I have been through has turned me into an indestructible rock. But son, I know I will have to leave this earth one day and that day I will see mother again, happy, smiling and waiting for me.”