Every time I come back to Kathmandu, I feel great. Despite the dirt, the dust, the terribly managed traffic, the honking cars, the undisciplined microvan drivers, the zooming motorcyclists, and so many other vices that engulfs our city, I fall in love with it all over again with every return. May be I feel this way coz it is home after all. Despite the leaking tap, and the cockroaches, home is home.
If this city was huggable (if there is a term like that), I would certainly hug it and let it know that I missed it, although I really dont have anyone here who misses me, or who waits for my arrival home, or who cooks a meal to welcome me, or who hugs me to let me know that I was missed.
Although I end up eating Maggie for dinner on my first night back home, I can't feel any less happy to be back, because Maggie would not taste the same in any place other than this (other than my first home, that is) ! :)
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