“The women here do not go fishing. It is what men do. But I do know how to row a boat. I usually take the boat to collect grass from the pasture across the flood plain of the Koshi. Recently I had made one of those trips. After collecting a heavy load of grass, I was returning home, slowly, for I am not a fast rower. I am aware that the load of the grass makes the boat unstable. Suddenly and without my knowledge, a current pulled me towards one of the flood gates of the Koshi Barrage. It happened so fast that I could not do anything. I panicked. My eyes saw the faces of my daughters and my husband. I thought maybe this was my end. I thought this is how I am going to die. I remember it was the iron gate number 55 that the boat hit. It broke in two. The current sucked me down under the gate. I do not remember what happened after that. When I opened my eyes I was lying on a sand deposit in the middle of the river. There were cuts all over my body. And the water was pouring out of my nostrils. I could have been dead. There is water everywhere and nowhere to escape. After the incident, I have a fear of dying and I do not go into the water. I do not row the boat. I just stay at home. I feed the animals hay. No green grass for them anymore, unless someone from the family collects it. I am just happy that I have survived for my three daughters. For my husband, who has left home for Punjab and can still come back to his wife now that I have survived. I have survived, for all of them.”