“When I was growing up, for many years, I didn’t have slippers to wear. The skin on my feet was dead. My father was a poor farmer who relied on rain for crops. There were no fertilisers like today. So less crops meant less food. Money was a distant dream. I remember I would pick up Gooseberry, tie it in a piece of cloth and run down to the highway to sell it. By midday, I would be so hungry that every time I saw a passerby chewing on corn my mouth would water. I was hardworking and would do any kind of work as long as it paid. So I started seeing money. But I also realised that it is difficult to earn money, so I started saving and eventually built a small hut for me and my family. Today, I work at the government office and I get a salary. But I don’t eat out. I don’t go to restaurant. I go to work, bring the entire salary home. Sometimes, I see my friends eat fancy meals in restaurants and the human I am, my mouth still waters. But I resist and I come back home.” (Krishna Bahadur Budathoki, Kuwapani, Nuwakot)