Epilogue to a simple Travelogue
Our trekking sticks kept.
Our cold wears stacked.
And to the bustling noisy crowded city of Kathmandu we were back.
Kathmandu, with her seeming haphazardness, is always a stark contrast to the serenity of the high mountains.
And as such, she forever will be a city that we would long for.
As we toured the grounds of the Ancient city of Baktapur, and circumabulated the Stupa of Boudanath, our minds kept wandering back...
To the past days we spent in this wonderfully flavourful country.
Our first experience in coming so close to a culture steeped in history.
And in being so totally immersed in her rituals... deep in the heart of the holiest Hindu temple in Nepal..
The joy and the laughter of the girls from being able to taste..
the highly sought-after Juju Dhau (King Yogurt) we were so lucky to come upon outside the Durbar Square of Baktapur...
The way the immaculately hair-dryer-blown hair fell nicely over the face of Q Jiejie,
as she drifted into her own reverie.. perhaps thinking of the past days of agony and of ecstasy..
of surmounting a height she had never, and of beholding a sight she could only dream of previously...
But now both a reality that had been ticked in the book of her life...
So much so that even the most celebrated Hindu temple Natapola of Baktapur behind her... faded into oblivion.
.. and as the tired family stood on the grounds of the Ancient City, how the more daring and adventurous sister followed me...
up the high steps of the Natapola to view the old walls from a high vantage point..
Her character so much echoed mine, in the way we would step out into an unfamiliar world and explore it to our hearts' content.