“They call me a mad person. A crazy person. But I am not mad. They almost convinced me I was. But I am not. My parents died when I barely had any senses of the world. Those who raised me to become an adolescent died in quick succession. I am left with no one – no family, no friends, no house, no food and no companion. They beat me and blame me if things go bad. They sometimes pelt stones when I get close. Children run after and around me because I have my head covered in excess rags, little do they know that even the smallest of the wind gush gives me a splitting headache. But once in a while someone comes and talks to me. I have concluded that a single person is capable of being good and bad at different times. The same person is capable of generosity and he is also capable of the most dangerous crime.”
– Gyan Bahadur Gagar, Dungre 7, Gumtha, Mugu