The Lonely Mango or ‘How to share a terrace with three dogs, cockroaches, ants and other little critters and experience Boudha with eyes and ear, nose and mind.’ August 2014. Close to Boudha, on a roof, a 5th floor, between monasteries, views, a panoramic view, the Kathmandu valley view. Green hills, grey sky, green-grey, lead-grey, silver-grey, black-grey, dark blue-grey. Light blue holes within the clouds allow a moment to realize infinity. It is the rainy season. The scent of sandalwood, cinnamon, patchouli, cloves and undefined herbs, drifting smoke, deep-fried pastries, vegetable fried rice mixed with the odour of urine and burning trash are passing my sense of smell. Peals of bells, garlings, couch shell trumpets and drumming noises swirl through the air, adding to the chanting of monks and nuns. Birds are screaming, babies crying, dogs barking. One neighbour’s water pipe is running and running and running....The bladder is calling. ...