The Innocence We Outgrew

You remember that Nepali song Phool ko Aankha ma (2014)? The one we all somehow knew, like it had been passed down to us?

“Chitta suddha hos, mero boli Buddha hos,
Mero paitalale, kirai namaros.”

We sang it with so much pride. So much innocence. We believed we’d always speak gently, that even our footsteps wouldn’t harm a living being.

The song stayed. But did we?

I came across it again while scrolling through reels, and it made me wonder—were we really naïve back then, or just honest?

People say children don’t understand the world. I think it’s the opposite. Maybe it’s the adults who don’t.

They told us cutting trees was wrong, then did it anyway.

They said money doesn’t buy happiness, yet it’s all anyone talks about.

They said family is forever, but it’s often within families that people break each other the most.

So what happened to that suddha chitta—that pure mind? That soft voice that never made someone feel small?

Now the first thing we do when we see a cockroach is reach for a slipper. Typical.

Somewhere along the way, we forgot who we were trying to be.

Especially here—remember how we all wanted to grow up and open hospitals for the poor? Free treatment, no one turned away. Did we really want to be doctors, or did we just want to be kind? Maybe “doctor” was the only shape kindness had back then.

Because now—who doesn’t lose their temper?

Who doesn’t get irritated with their parents?

Who hasn’t, even for a moment, seen responsibility as a burden?

And still, we tell ourselves we’re good people.

But are we?

At some point, we all remember—the goal was never just money. It was peace. It was happiness. We just got distracted along the way.

And maybe that’s what’s stayed the same— the song, the words, the memory.

The funniest part is—
we still sing the song,
just not with the same truth.