
“The hills are still there. We just stopped being able to see them.”
The hills are still there..
That’s how I stood there, simply observing the city where I grew up. Yet all along, I knew – there are hills beyond those buildings.
Yes, hills I have been seeing my entire life, but on that day, they were nothing more than black stains on the horizon, as though the city was attempting to erase its own boundaries. What really got under my skin was that green tree to the left.
How calm.
How at peace.
Simply doing its duty despite all that was surrounding it. No one on those rooftops even bothered to look up.
What point was there? After all, this is only Tuesday in Kathmandu, with its gloomy sky, its grey hills, and the distinct sense of something weighing down on your lungs. This isn’t weather anymore. I’ve spent enough time in this city to understand its appearance on a clear day.
Those visible hills, the sky blue and the valley itself larger, somehow easier to breathe in. That was not the day I captured in this photograph. This is the day we have made our own.
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