Journey Home Book Prologue
As I crawled out from the icy Himalayan water of the Bagmati River, I gazed at two heaps of ashes, one from a cremation pit and the other from a sacrificial fire. I was dressed in only a loincloth, and a cold wind chilled me to the bone. An intense longing gripped me.
What was I doing here — shivering, alone, nearly starving, and so far from home? Was all my searching to be in vain?