“Every evening, after we both returned from our day’s work, Father and I would sit in the kitchen and talk about our day. Through his stories, I also got to understand the kind of person he was. He would sit with me for hours and tell me about his journey to India, how he toiled there half his life and his journey back here to his ancestral village. Life was not easy for him. I remember him going to ceremonies as a Lama and bringing food from the monastery for us. Sometimes it was not enough so he would skip meals to ensure we ate full stomach. As I grew older, I would tail him everywhere he went. And in doing so, I learnt his trade of performing rituals and prayers in the village households and the monastery. As I lent him my hand, I also got to know people. Eventually, I also became a Lama, although alongside, I run this lodge. The lodge was my father’s idea too but because now there is a road that leads to the destination directly, many people skip this settlement and the business is slow. But Father showed me the way to live. He talked of compassion, of family values and how to raise children. Not so long ago, I lost Father to old age. And I think my daughter has come to understand that I am hurt. Every time I sit in the corner with my tea and think of father, she comes to me and asks me to hold her. And with my daughter in my arms, I feel happy again.”