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A boy called Sandesh
Kathmandu 1993.

During my preparation for a two-week trek through the Himalayas, I’d find myself literally wandering o...
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A boy called Sandesh
Kathmandu 1993.

During my preparation for a two-week trek through the Himalayas, I’d find myself literally wandering off into the colourful and busy streets of Kathmandu. Apart from the picturesque beauty of the region my memories are peppered with the simple chats and chance encounters with the warm and generous people of Nepal.

One day I met a little boy, named Sandesh. He had begun to follow me as I wandered about, chatting to the locals and ocassionally asking permission to take photographs. At one point it was clear that he was playing a kind of ‘hide and seek’ game with me, so I played along. This pic is one that I took whilst we played together amongst the dusty back-streets of Kathmandu, back in 1993.

He eventually led me back to his family home where I was greeted by his mother, father and ‘baby-sister.' Having almost no material possessions to speak of, his mother insisted I partake in the offer of warm chai and snacks. Many hours passed and I eventually took down the family’s address before bidding little Sandesh and his family, farewell.

Then more recently, the unthinkable happened. In April of 2015 a 7.8 magnitude earthquake devastated Nepal. It was the worst natural disaster to strike the region in almost a hundred years. I was travelling through Borneo at the time news had begun to filter into the world and along with millions, I watched in horror and disbelief at the death and destruction the earthquake had left in its wake. Over 8,600 people had died and more than 16,000 injured. The quake had affected 5.5 million people, with nearly 3 million being totally displaced. It left over a million people in dire need of food, damaged 26 hospitals and destroyed nearly half a million homes.

My thoughts automatically and suddenly turned to Sandesh and his family. Even after all this time, I desperately wanted to know if they and the thousands around him living near and around Kathmandu were safe and whether or not they’d survived or got out safely. Unfortunately, the travel-diary containing all my addresses and contacts had been stolen in a neighbouring country shortly after visiting Nepal. So, sadly I will never know their fate. Sandesh would be in his late-twenties by now, probably with a family of his own. My thoughts are still with you Sandesh and this brief untold-story is dedicated to you, your family and your country.
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