When I first moved to Nepal in 1995, I was fascinated by the various methods of worship that were present in the country. The morning prayers and the daily worship of Kumar outside the house’s main entrance were all different from what I had experienced in India. I was amazed to see the worship of Kumari, who was revered as a living goddess. What saddened me was that I was unable to understand the history behind many of the rituals practiced here. It was during Indra Jatra that I felt most overwhelmed by the rituals, as if I had been in the presence of gods. I, who had never portrayed gods in my works, began sketching the Navadurgas as I used to in my childhood. Here, I also witnessed many Jatras—Samyak Jatra, Sindur Jatra, Rato Machhendranath Jatra, Bhoto Jatra, and Seto Machhendranath Jatra—and created a series of works inspired by them. Having recently moved to the city, I was shocked to see gods and goddesses taken out of their temples and paraded across the city. “Gods must have such wanderlust,” I thought. When I saw the Samyak Jatra for the first time in Swayambhu, I again felt as if I had seen real gods themselves, as though statues of Buddhas had left their temples to congregate in a park.