This was my first international flight - the first time that I was moving away from home for the long haul.

When I saw the morning sun that day, the hills, the cloudy sky, the Kathmandu skyline that I am so familiar with, I wept. I thought of Baa, Aama and dai. I thought of my beautiful dogs who I miss so much (I have smiled at every dog I have passed by here and called them a sweetheart).

As the day began, I felt rushed - weirdly, all my bags had been packed a while back. I just felt like I had a lot to do, lists of mental checklists to go through. The rush was real. But it didn't "hit" me at the airport like they said it would. It didn't hit me when I sat down for lunch that morning - a full plate of mam, dal and tarkari that Aama made for us. It didn't hit me when I sat with my dogs and held them close to whisper to them to be gentle and sit tight, nice and warm at home. It didn't hit me when family started coming in at home to see me off.

At the airport, I hugged everyone told everyone to just be well. Baa also got a hold of my rush, I think, because he came to the airport in his slippers. He said he just completely forgot about his shoes.

There was so much to do there - paperwork's to sort out, that huge trolley to push, the security checks and questions to answer. I still couldn't sit with my feelings then. But I made phone calls and said my goodbye to friends who were at the airport but I was already at my terminal three hours early. First-time flyers, anxiety - you know the drill.

On my first flight from Kathmandu to Abu Dhabi, I called my dad twice before take off just to let him know that I was now on my way. I watched Kathmandu from my window seat for as long as I could see her. I watched the hills, our curvy roads and rivers. And then I took a nap as soon as the view outside my window changed to endless clouds.

When I woke up later, the crew asked me if I wanted to have my Chicken Biryani now. Startled, I told them to recheck their list and see if they could squeeze in a vegetarian meal for me. They said they booked the biryani for me in advance and if I wanted to I could purchase a meal on the flight itself. This is when the guy sitting next to me offers to buy a meal for me and take the biryani that was supposedly for me. I asked him if he was sure three times before the crew handed me over my green salad.

Here I was surrounded by clouds, thousands of feet above the ground with a big bowl of green salad and a small tub of yogurt in front of me. One spoonful of that yogurt, and then the tears wouldn't stop. I thought of my mother - who would never let me have unsweetened yogurt because she knows I don't like it. I thought of home. I was barely hours away but all I had around me were strangers and a sky full of clouds that were far too big than what I had ever known. I was hungry but all I had was a salad that a stranger offered to buy for me and unsweetened yogurt that I hated. I wept for the kindness that still seeps into the world, despite it all. And I wept for the all that was ahead of me. I have miles, and miles to go.

At touchdown in Abu Dhabi, Sabin dai (he bought me the salad) was immediately on a phone call with his little baby boy explaining how was finally where there was network coverage. Sabin ji had told me he has been working in Abu Dhabi for over seven years and he quite liked his work here. He said I should come visit one day and wished me luck for my journey ahead. I am still indebted to him.