11/04/2025
'This Pakistani journalist moved to rural Indiana. Here's what Nepal taught him about being invisible.'
I grew up in Pakistan. In 2012, I traveled to Nepal to photograph and find something I couldn't name.
Being Pakistani meant growing up with a particular wound – my country was born from separation, cut away from India in 1947. For me, Nepal felt like standing on a bridge between two worlds. Close enough to understand home. Far enough to watch it clearly.
There's an old Hindu belief that the universe is built on two powers: creation and concealment. Creation reveals. Concealment hides. Both are necessary for growth. You have to be lost a little to find yourself.
But in Nepal, I watched something else: a nation that was never allowed to find itself.
Nepal's always been caught between bigger powers – India, China, other nations competing for control. Its monarchy, its government, constantly changing hands. And the landscape itself – mountains, hills – kept people isolated from each other. Lives spent just surviving. Entire valleys of people who felt invisible to the world.
And here's what struck me: They weren't broken by it. They were spiritual about it.
I wandered through these generational homes, learning shepherd games, watching elders move with deep reverence for tradition. There was loneliness there, yes. But also acceptance. A kind of grace. They understood something: some journeys toward selfhood have to be deeply solitary. You wade through the murk before you manifest.
I think about this now, living here in Perry County.
We live in a place that sometimes feels like it's being left behind. We see bigger cities get attention. We feel the weight of not being "enough" on the national stage. And maybe there's something Nepal taught me worth sharing: being small, being overlooked, being geographically isolated – that's not a punishment. It can be a sanctuary.
It can be where you figure out who you really are.
These photographs are from that moment – strangers becoming teachers, showing me that identity doesn't come from being seen by the powerful. It comes from seeing yourself clearly, and honoring the traditions and people around you.
Some journeys are meant to be solitary. And that's where the real growth lives.
All photographs © 2012 Shiraz Mukarram. All rights reserved. Please do not reuse without permission.