Do not confine us within the narrow walls of any label. We are the very air that carries the coldness of the mountains and spreads the greenery of affection across the golden plains of the Terai. Do not imprison us within the walls of any religion. Do not divide Hindus, Muslims, Buddhists, Christians, Kirantis into narrow groups. Because we have seen—smoke rising from the Pashupatinath Aarti and the call to prayer from the mosque both ascending into the same blue sky. We have witnessed the prayer wheels of the monastery turning in an endless rhythm of compassion. We have heard the church bells ringing hopeful tunes with time. Yet, light has never risen through a single door alone.
Do not inscribe us with the letters of caste. For the rhododendron blooming on the mountains and the ripening rice grains in the terai do not ask each other’s lineage. The Koshi, Gandaki, and Karnali rivers bear no pride of origin. Our identity is older than our surnames. Our history is grander than our caste. The first letter this soil taught us was not hatred, but love. On this very soil, Lumbini gave birth to compassion, Janakpur to dignity, Pashupatinath initiated silent tolerance, and Mount Everest reminded the sky that human pride must rise higher than the mountain’s peak.
This same soil gave the world Sita’s patience, Buddha’s compassion, Bhrikuti’s friendship, Arniko’s creativity, Prithvi Narayan’s unity, and the courageous spirit of the Gorkhalis. That light still spreads, shining like the snow on the Himalayas, echoing through the waves of rivers, and sparkling as hope in the pure eyes of children. Yet, why do we tear apart our own sky? We are all children of the same soil. Our blood holds the cold of the mountains, the fragrance of the hills, and the warmth of the Terai.
Wherever we stand, there stands Nepal. Wherever we breathe, Nepali-ness breathes with us. Therefore—do not take religion away from us, for humanity transcends religion. Do not take language from us, for intimacy is deeper than language. Do not take history from us, because beyond history lies a shared dream of the future. And in the name of religion, language, caste, or color—may our country never be lost. For once the country is lost, there remains no identity, no memory, no future. When someone asks for our identity, let us proudly say—We are Nepali. Let us stand tall as Nepalese, as if we ourselves are the mountains. When our eyes close for the last time, let our resting place be our Nepal.
