He always considered himself a guide by birth.
He has been guiding trekkers through these rugged himalayan terrain ever since he can remember.
A Bramhin by birth but a Sherpa by deeds,
that’s what he always replied when asked about his life,
not forgetting to add that he was a Nepali by birth but now known as Irani.
He doesn’t know why.
His identity was contradictions,
so was his life.
The best seat in the house used to be occupied by beautiful dark but a noisy couple.
They left home as soon as the front door opened,
and come back just before sunset.
They were very quiet and went to bed very early at night,
but got up very early and were very noisy in the morning.
They were the natural alarm for the rest in the house.
A couple of house martins.
This time I went back, the beautiful dark couple was not there.
Their space was occupied by a beautiful while couple,
spotless they were.
Caught them in the middle of the day,
making soft noises.
At least they are peaceful,
even when they make noises.
In front of the house there used to be a cactus, fairly large.
It was still there after all these years, only grown to become huge.
It must have been storing liquid for the dry seasons,
but its not much use when you grow up in Kathmandu,
and not in a hot arid Arizona desert.
Some things never learn,
even when they grow old.