Hi, I'm Sagar. I'm a cook at T's Your Palate, and if you ask me how I got here, the answer isn't simple. It's not just about learning to cook or finding a job. It's about survival.

I'm from Bhedabari, Dhading. I came to Kathmandu for my higher studies, excited for a new beginning.

But it wasn't the beginning I imagined.

My mum passed away while I was on my way to Kathmandu for my studies. I lost her just as I was starting a new chapter. And with her, I lost everything — financial support, emotional support, the feeling of having someone in my corner.

I was alone. I had to figure everything out on my own. I've been supporting myself since then. I was just a kid, but I didn't have a choice. My first job was at a Momo place as a kitchen helper — dishwashing, cleaning, everything no one else wanted to do.

But I didn't complain. I needed the job. And honestly, I needed something to focus on. Something to keep me going.

I'd been cooking small things since I was a kid, just at home. But I liked it. The kitchen felt like one of the few things I could control.

At my previous job, the owners noticed that I was excited to cook. So they encouraged me. They taught me. Slowly, I moved from washing dishes to actually cooking. That's where I learned Indian cuisine. That's where I started to feel like maybe I could build something for myself.

After three years, I came to T's Your Palate. One of my dai told me about the opening. I took the chance.

My day starts with prep — marinating meat, making sauces, pre-cooking tortillas. Then orders come in. It gets busy, it gets loud. But I don't feel pressure. I feel alive.

The kitchen team here — we support each other. We joke around a lot. I like to prank people. Once, my bhai was sleeping in the kitchen during the off-season, and I put a lemon in his mouth. Small things like that keep the mood light.

We're like a family. And after losing mine, that means more than I can say.

I love working. When I'm in the kitchen, time disappears. I lose myself in the rhythm of it.

I love cooking mushurama. And eating? Hook a Chuck. That's my favorite.

I want to try making pizza one day. I've asked to transfer to Sicily to learn, but Diwas dai said maybe during the off-season. I'm waiting. I'm patient.

For me, both presentation and taste matter. Good food that looks good — that's what makes people happy. And making people happy through food? That feels like giving something back.

I completed grade 12 three years ago. My childhood dream was to join the army. But when my mum passed and support disappeared, that dream died too.

Right now, I'm applying to cook in foreign countries. I want to work abroad, gain experience, learn new cuisines. Maybe in 5-6 years, I'll come back to Nepal and open something of my own. I haven't thought about the details yet, but the dream is there.

I didn't plan to be a cook. Life didn't give me that luxury.

But the kitchen became my home when I lost everything else. It gave me structure when my life fell apart. It gave me purpose when I felt lost. It gave me a family when I felt alone.

I'm still learning. I'm still growing. And I'm still fighting to build something better.

And honestly? I wouldn't change a thing.