“Once I got lost in the woods. Father had sternly told me not to venture out of my knowledge. But I was a curious boy and I wanted to see what lay behind the mountains. And I felt I was safe in the company of the yaks. So I held the pouch of corn in one hand and my wooden crop on the other and walked towards unknown woods. And as fate would have it, I got lost. Luckily, the animals had not strayed too far. I had my corn and gathered them around. I looked at the sun, to the direction it was headed. And it helped me find my way back. When I reached home, it was already dark. Everyone in the family had gathered in front of the house and were about to go looking for me. They seemed very worried. They must have thought I fell from a cliff or a leopard ate me. They rejoiced my returning home as one and because I brought back all the animals, I could see the relief on my father’s face. Father died not so long after. But I remember his face from that particular day. He was a good man and talking to you about him, I am unsure, how I will be able to hide my tears.”