Before roads filled the valley and cities spread across the plains, the Kathmandu Valley was a place of forests, farmlands, monasteries, and sacred shrines. Near Uku Bahal in Patan lived a poor farmer and his wife. Though they worked hard from sunrise until dusk, one sorrow never left their home. Many years passed, yet they had no child.

One autumn day, an old Buddhist monk arrived at their house. The couple welcomed him with food and a place to rest. Before he departed, the monk looked kindly upon the woman.

“You shall have a daughter,” he said.

The couple smiled with joy.

“But remember my words,” the monk continued. “She will not belong entirely to the world of humans. Do not fear what destiny brings.”

Months later, the woman’s wish came true. She gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. However, before the parents could even hold their child, a great eagle descended from the sky. Its wings spread wide enough to darken the doorway. With one swift movement, the eagle lifted the baby in its talons and soared into the clouds.

“My child!” the mother cried.

The farmer reached for his bow, but the eagle had already vanished beyond the hills. The couple wept bitterly.

They searched from valley to valley until they reached a quiet place beneath Swayambhunath Hill, where rocky cliffs overlooked an ancient monastery known as Chilko Bahal. There, high among the rocks, they saw the eagle. To their astonishment, the great bird was not harming the child. It sheltered the little girl beneath its wings, fed her, and watched over her as tenderly as any mother.

Then the farmer remembered the monk’s words. He lowered his head.

“The monk spoke the truth,” he whispered. The couple returned home, trusting that the child was where she was meant to be.

The eagle named the girl Imaya.

Years passed, and Imaya grew into a kind and graceful young woman. Upon one shoulder was a birthmark shaped like the wing of an eagle. The birds of the valley gathered wherever she walked and she understood their songs, and they understood her words.

Often the eagle would say, “Listen carefully, my daughter. Birds see what people cannot.”

Imaya never forgot those lessons.

Then one terrible year, sickness spread across Kathmandu. Day after day, more people fell ill. The markets grew silent and the temples filled with prayers. But no healer could stop the disease.

At last, the king proclaimed, “Whoever saves my people shall receive honor beyond measure.”

While others searched for cures, Imaya climbed to the high cliffs and spoke with the birds.

“Elders of the sky,” she asked, “tell me what your sharp eyes have seen.”

An old eagle answered, “The poison comes from the great well at Indra Chowk. A venomous snake has tainted its waters.”

Imaya hurried to the palace. “Your Majesty,” she said, “I know the cause of the sickness.”

The king looked at the young woman with surprise.

“And how could you know such a thing?”

“The birds have told me.”

Some laughed, but the king saw confidence in her eyes.

“Very well,” he said. “Show us.”

Imaya climbed to the rooftops and fastened upon herself the great eagle’s wings. She rose above the valley until she found the poisoned well. There, hidden among the stones, lay the great snake. In the ancient language of eagles, she cried,

“This valley is under our protection. Leave this place and never return.”

The eagle’s voice echoed through the sky and the snake trembled. It slipped away into the dark hills, never to poison the waters again. Soon the well became pure once more. The people drank freely, and the sickness disappeared from the valley.

The king rejoiced. He summoned Imaya before his throne.

“Tell me,” he said, “who taught you such wisdom?”

Imaya bowed. “I am the daughter of the eagle. Everything I know was given to me beneath her wings.”

The king marveled at her words. To honor her courage, he built a fine residence for her near Uku Bahal, the place where she was born. Though Imaya came to live among people, she never forgot the one who had raised her. Each year she returned to Eagle’s Nest and sat among the birds.

“There is no greater debt,” she would say, “than the debt we owe to those who give us life and protect us.”

In time, others followed her example. The people began to honor the eagle as a guardian of the valley, and they remembered Imaya as the woman who could speak with birds.