In The Lunchbox, the movie du jour, one of the protagonists, Saajan Fernandez’ throwaway lines to his pen-amour Ila can be substantively translated thus: We forget things when we have no one to tell them to. Reading Tsering Wangmo Dhompa’s A Home in Tibet a book as low-key, as philosophical and as acute as The Lunchbox is as a film Saajan’s observation comes back, amplified many times. What happens to a culture when there is no one to communicate its facets, nuances and histories as lived experiences?