Most people find shelters for senior citizens depressing and avoid going there. But working on this photo feature at the Pashupati Bridhashram over the past six months, I have been inexplicably uplifted. I forget the stress of living in Kathmandu and homesickness for my native Bangladesh. I feel myself fortunate that I have a family, as many of the senior citizens once had. But what gives me hope is that even though they have lost families and possessions they still care. They care for each other and they retain a deep sense of humanity. The story of how they landed up here is almost same: in the old age they become the burden to their families who dumped them at Pashupati. For the elderly, it’s sometimes a relief that they are in such a holy place and don’t have to bear the taunts of a home where they are no more welcome. None of them came here willingly, and no one has anywhere to go. The Pashupati Bridhashram is run by the government, so budget is limited, it is congested, short-staffed and shows signs of mismanagement. There are 230 residents, of which 140 are women.