What does Nepali-ness feel like? What is that dank sweetmusty smell of our tole corner, hidden from sun, and seeped through with mashed flavors of rain sewage incense oil chiura cow dung aila and wet smoke? Why does our hand reach out to temple doors and bells as we pass by, and attempt to capture a little bit of whatever it is with a touch to our hearts and our foreheads? Why does our sarangi weep so? Can all of this be captured in shadows and lines? Dipesh Risal attempts the perhaps impossible in this compilation of images and poems, collected and refined over the course of twenty years.