My arrival in Kathmandu was set against the cool embrace of an October morning with more dust clouds than I had ever seen on the ground. It was the kind of morning when a soft, blue expanse sometimes makes you wonder how beautiful the sky might have once been, when probably, all it would take for something to be meaningful would be the very presence of a soul. I had pre-booked a one-week cultural tour with Travories, expecting hearty meals, ancient temples, and perhaps a scene or two for my camera. I was certainly not expecting a city to just eviscerate me with its spirit.
But Kathmandu did just that. Not grandiose gestures or polished experiences but those little things that make up daily magic. An unexpected smile from a local. A cup of tea, handed to you without you having to ask for it. The soft echoes of bells ringing that feel like they resonate deep within your chest. It was not a city putting on airs to win my affections; it was just being itself-wild, warm, weathered, and full of wonder.
That week following October was more than just temples and traditions; it was an exploration beyond the surface. Into connection. Into rhythm and ritual. Into a culture that lives so vibrantly, I began to question whether I had ever really seen it before.
“Some places just live in your mind. Kathmandu? It moved into my heart.“
In The Beginning – First Steps, First Feelings: A City That Looks You in the Eye
Stepping out from the airport still haunts my memories—dust whirlpooling in the afternoon glow, taxi drivers calling out with fluttering prayer flags that looked like waving just for me. Sure, it was all feral; but within moments, I noticed what set Kathmandu apart: when people looked at you, they really saw you. Not past, not around—really you. Somehow, that made the strange place feel a little bit safe.
I wandered around Thamel that first evening, sans any goals, with just the excitement of being somewhere new. Kids ran past, kites in hand, the smell of roasted corn tang in the air, and punctuating every few steps, someone would greet me with a nice “Namaste” and folded hands. There was no script, no tourist gloss. It was messy and beautiful and real. I felt as if I had accidentally wandered into someone’s home—not very welcome but nice to have me there.
It dawned on me then: This city does not invite you as a guest; it welcomes you as a friend returned after a long absence. I remember texting a friend: “It’s like I met an old soul in the shape of a city.” And I knew at that very moment that Kathmandu was not just another stamp on my passport but would become part of who I was.
Living, Breathing Culture More Than Just Stone and History
When we think about culture, we often think about museums and ceremonies, glass-walled or kept for the festal season. But in Kathmandu? It breathes. I felt it in the way the elders joined an oil lamp-lighting ritual at dawn; in the clang of the temple bells that echoed on into the afternoon; and in the blaze of red tika a kind stranger put on my forehead after a short conversation. It’s not just tradition-it’s life.
Frankly, I was speechless: not only by all the ancient palaces and intricate carvings, but also by the very hint of life that buzzed around it. Well, I was admiring the fake architectural designs, and guess what? A wedding procession just went by: drums, jolly mayhem, and all. One little girl there gave me a marigold flower with the shyest smile. It was not just a touristy region; it really lived. A place where life and legacy entwined.
One day I sat on temple steps as the sun dipped low. Slowly the call to prayer began, and with it everything seemed to shape up a little slowly, even more so. I was listening, my eyes closed, while mentally singing along to the Coldplay line: “Lights will guide you home…” And at that moment, it hit me: Kathmandu was kind of home. Not home like where I was from, but perhaps… the home I belonged to, at least for a little while.
Food for the Soul – A Taste of Warmth in Every Bite
This is particularly true here. The momos were my first plate at some family-run stall between two shops in Asan. The auntie from the place kept an extra one “for smile” and when I tasted it- juicy, spicy, wrapped in love-I actually teared up. Who knew dumplings could be so emotional?
Every meal felt like it was a conversation. Be it the dal bhat along with a side of stories or sel roti served during a casual street chatting session, the generosity of the Nepalese table catered and made me feel like I was not a customer, but rather, a guest. I sometimes even found myself sitting there long after the food was gone, sipping hot masala tea and laughing with the locals about anything and nothing.
“There is also a beautiful quote from Jason Mraz which I like; it goes thus, ‘It takes no time to fall in love but it takes you years to know what love is.” Kathmandu made me learn that love is usually found in such small servings, like, say, a bowl of thukpa on a chilly evening, handed over to you with a glorious smile without a bill to follow-up on it. Just “You eat. You are welcome”.
People, Pace, and Profound Stillness in the Chaos
People, Pace, and Profound Stillness in the Chaos at first blush, one wonders how Kathmandu can be such a busy city. The horns honking at one end are not disconnected from the scooters rushing in another direction. There is all the bartering, chanting, laughter, and people in motion. But all this rush is masking a very palpable slowness that I hadn’t enjoyed in years-a pause here, some talking there, a moment for timelines for praying to help a stranger on the street. The chaos is not stressful-it is intentional, is rhythmic, and is human.
Kamathis stood by the roadside shrine, but it was simply watching. Incense lit by a woman; flowers from a little boy; and there was an old man, eyes closed in silence. Purely life, not a performance, not a ritualistic form for show. And I think to myself, “When was the last time I slowed down like this?” In Kathmandu, the world never stops, yet there’s always space so people can catch up-with time.
That early morning, I woke up with a girl’s half-singing, half-coying voice coming from a little distance. I peeked out to see a girl, maybe around 10 years, sweetly sweeping her front step while doing a little singing. The singing was not even for anyone. But just for herself. Maybe this is what this city teaches one the best-how to find happiness in the small things and also to live fully in the moment, no matter how mad the world is around you.
A Culture That Held Me – And Gently Let Me Go
I may well have been stunned by the depth of my reception on this journey. From the young man at the market negotiating on my behalf to the grandmother who blessed my forehead and fed me gundruk soup as though I were her own, I felt something very rare: A culture accepts you for however long you choose to perch there without question.
There’s something empowering about being an outsider and yet getting invited to partake in whatever is happening. Kathmandu’s hospitality did not belong to the fancy or formal type; it was a real one. Open arms, warm food, shared smiles, kind eyes—nothing but the pure essence of humanity.
“You’re not from here,” an elderly man said as we stood watching the pigeons at the stupa. “But Kathmandu accommodates everyone. Even the winds have room here.”
“You’re not from here,” an elderly man said as we stood watching the pigeons at the stupa. “But Kathmandu accommodates everyone. Even the winds have room here.”
And I chose to believe him. Because by the end of the whole journey, not only did I admire this culture, but I also had a piece of it embedded in me.
The Final Word: Go, Feel, Get Changed
So I arrived in Nepal, with sights to see marked off. What I departed with was all the must-feels in the heart. Travories might have made the journey successful, but I thank the people, the culture, and all the surprises in Kathmandu that taught me something at every corner.If you’re wondering whether it is worth the trip—go. But do not go only to “see.” Go to feel. To laugh, to be left bewildered and awed, and to be accepted. Go so that people can crack your heart wide open, pouring into it goodness from every angle.
“There are places that change how you walk in life. Kathmandu changed how deep I walk in life.”
I’ll be back; maybe not tomorrow, but definitely someday. Because some parts of you remain behind in places that just loved you for no reason.
From the core, Namaste.
-Winona
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