Kathmandu Blogger

Life after World Cup

2010-07-13T05:08:00.000-07:00

Load shedding is back.

At 8 last night I was starting at darkness The light had suddenly died and I hadn't cared to charge my emergency light. I had to search for a candle.

As I lit the candle and the light from it flickered I started imagining this is how life must be like 50 years back. It was 'back to the future' moment.

During the World Cup, as people switched on their TVs and watched football until the wee hours of morning, the electricity board didn’t dare to cut power. The whole nation was watching. It was festival of football. The electricity board knew the wrath they’d have to face. So the lights came all day and all night as every match was shown live in 2 TV channels.

Now, it is electricity board's time to spew venom at us.

During World Cup, the streets of Kathmandu was virtually empty at rush hour. At 5, when I returned home from work there so few cars, buses, and even people walking on the street. Everyone was home watching TV. The first match started at 5.30 local time and everybody had to watch it.

And in my office, our usual chat in between work was fiery, even war like. We all had our favorite teams - the likes of Spain, Argentina, Brazil, we used to boast of their attacking powers, the skills of individual players had, and how they had outplayed the opponents during the match.

But those are all bygone days now. The old load shedding has reared its ugly head again.

Now, politicians hug the limelight, smoke from vehicles will fill the street and the lungs of the people, and our office will revert back to old boring days, when we were mouse like instead of tigers the World Cup had made us.

I can't wait for another World Cup to begin.

No Logo

2010-06-05T23:31:00.000-07:00

In the world of increasing economic disparity and diminishing cultural choices!

The Road to Serfdom

2010-06-01T02:30:00.000-07:00

The road to serfdom - was written by Austrian economist von Hayek. It came about in Readers Digest in 1944, just when 2nd world war was concluding. In the article, von Hayek argues about the dangers of state planning, and how fascism and communuism are the product of grand plans the state undertakes that erodes individual liberty and leads to dictatorship.

The book was an enormous hit and I encourage every Nepali to read it, especially at a time when we are faced with the dangers of extremist forces of left and right.

There are some quotes from the article:

"Man does not and cannot know everything, and when he acts as if he does, disaster follows"

"What has always made the state a hell on earth has been precisely that man has tried to make it heaven"

What do you think?

The crowds celebrating Buddha Jayanti - their message

2010-05-30T03:04:00.000-07:00

I went to Swayumbhu to pay my obeisance to the Buddha, a great being who many Nepalis like to proudly say was born in Nepal but they don’t like to read any of his advices and they don’t even respect the Buddha. All these are mostly people who belong either to the extreme right or the left of Nepalese politics. This is not surprising since the Buddha advocated the ‘middle path’. If at least these extremists tried to became little moderate, without comprising on their core principles - e.g. equality, Nepal would be much more peaceful and safer place to live. What is alarming though is that the moderate voices are increasingly being drowned out by these extremists.

In Nepal, if the extreme left gets a stranglehold, the extremely right will take up arms, and if opposite happens, the extreme left with take up arms. The only solution is the center, or the ‘middle path’ the Buddha taught.

So thinking of this turmoil I went to Swayumbhu to wash my mind of all the politics and insecurity that surrounds us. From about a kilometer away, the police had blocked traffic. Too much crowd.

I parked my bike and walked. The Buddhist activity around the temple is more about accumulating good karma and letting your mind become peaceful, unlike in the Hindu temple, where the devotees are pleasing the Gods in return for a favor. You could say wanting a good karma is also similar to pleasing the Gods to ask for a favor. Anyway, the activities vary slightly. You don’t see a crowd in large number circumambulating a Hindu shrine. In Swayumbhu, huge crowd was going round at the bottom and at the main stupa. When I was there, maybe 20 or 30 thousand people, all enthusiastic turning the prayers wheels and chanting mantras were walking. During the whole day, more than 10 laks people could have walked doing the same.

As I watched, I couldn’t stop my mind for recollecting what Prachanda had said during the 6 day strike. He’d declared that the Nepali people are here in the street in millions and whole Kathmandu will come out to greet us.

I saw this procession of devotees, all peaceful, all happy – and thought the Maoists should come to see this.

Off course, they’ll say religion is the opium of the people. It blinds people and maintains hierarchal system that the class struggle should shatter.

I say to them – it’s their obsession for a class struggle that’s the more dangerous opium of the two, filling them with hatred and revenge and turning humans into animals.

The people in Swayumbhu were all happy and cheerful. They wanted to live in a Nepal that was peaceful and prosperous, and one without hatred and violence. The procession was answering the Maoists back.

I will find you

2010-05-28T02:21:00.001-07:00

I've pasted a link to the video below entitled I will find you. The documentary is about the disappearance of ordinary people during the recently concluded civil war. Both sides in the war killed, abducted and disappeared many people, both sides are now helping each other to cover their crimes. Watch the video.

The link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8VBDYraMVGY

The Red Flag

2010-05-26T22:09:00.000-07:00

This is the title of the book by David Priestland. I got to know about it when I read a review of the book in a newspaper. I was instantly attracted to it. I did bulk at the price of it (Rs. 1850) but I had made up my mind to read about Communism knowing how deeply we’ve been affected by it recently.

So the next day I went ahead and bought this bulky book of about 700 pages. It’s been 3 days since the purchased and I’ve spent all my free time devouring it. I’ve finished reading about 25% but suffice to say I’ve enjoyed every bit of it. If you want to know what communism is, read this book.

I want to translate the book in Nepali. I feel every Nepali should read this book and know about the benefits and the pitfalls of adopting communism. Our largest political party – the Maoists, are strongly in favor of a one-party communist rule and the people have been blinded by the favors the Maoists have promised. They (people and politicians) should read this book and decide for themselves if what the Maoists have promised can be delivered.

The book doesn’t criticism communism unduly but writes in 'a matter of fact' way what was wrong about the movement and what needs to be adapted and abandoned for it to have any success. I feel if our communist leaders and ordinary Nepali read the book, at least the brand of communism we will inherit won’t be as disastrous as it was in USSR, China and most of the countries that adopted this political system.

I want to setup up a committee and start collecting funds to translate this book. If anyone has any innovative idea or experience on doing it, please contact me.

Making of Pani Puri (simply bread of water) at home – process fraught with uncertainty

2010-05-17T23:19:00.000-07:00

The first one stayed flat, the second one had small blisters all around it, and the third one was even worst – it carved in. The small thinly pressed round dough (for bread) was supposed to puff up in the middle when put in a pan with hot oil. But it didn’t. There goes our Saturday, I thought.

My wife and I had worked for 2 hours to reach this point. We’d prepared the dough, boiled potatoes and shopped around for other ingredients. The pani puri is a delight snack item, in which you break part of the swollen bit of the puri (or bread), in the hole goes mashed potato (which is mixed with salt and red chilli powder) and then you add water. Well, it’s not really water, but rather a drink that is full of flavors – tangy, spicy, peppery, you name it. We had to purchase about 5 items for the water to acquire the taste. But it was worth it. When we’d put all the ingredients and the water in a mixer and blended them, the drink was mouthwatering to say the least.

After the swollen bit of the puri is filled with water and mashed potato, you gulp it in one go. As you break the puri with our teeth, the water gushes to all part of our mouth and you’re covered with this wonderful flavor. I frequently close my eyes at this point and take in the sensation. No wine or champagne can even come close to beating this experience.

But here we were – the puri just wasn’t bulging up.

But wife is full of innovative ideas when it comes to cooking. She tries every possible ways. Failure just isn’t an option for her. But I’m a quitter. I’d already told her that I’d go out and purchase just the puri and have it our other items.
Without listening to my stupid idea she increased the gas, the oil simmered, and she put the dough in.

We both watched, hoping…would the trick work?

You could see the puff but it wasn’t what we wanted it, not exactly. It was in between a blister and a full swell.

“Maybe the ingredients for the dough aren’t correct!” I say, again quickly losing hope.

“We did everything correctly,” my wife shouted, annoyed. “I’m improving, wait for this one.”

Another dough went it, she quickly flip it to other side, and then flipped back again, and then hey presto – a wonderful puff appeared.

Just what we’d been hoping for.

Thank goodness!

The pani puri was an utter delight. It took us 3 hours to finish making it the whole thing and just 15 minutes to gorge about 20 puris each. I skipped dinner and slept with my taste buds wonderfully happy.

Any takers?

The Real Fascists

2010-05-09T23:23:00.000-07:00

Dinanath Sharma, a senior political leader of Maoist Party in Nepal, in a recent interview in BBC Nepalese Service called the other political parties and those that opposed their current struggle as fascists.

Here is what the term means: a governmental system led by a dictator having complete power, forcibly suppressing opposition and criticism, regimenting all industry, commerce, etc., and emphasizing an aggressive nationalism and often racism.

Last Saturday, after the Maoists were forced to stop their indefinite strike, Prachanda, the supreme commander of the party said they will take note of all the anti-Maoists activities that have taken place during the strike. He said the party will take action against them and he specially mentioned the scholars, journalists and publishing houses. In short, it was a threat of direct action. The Maoists have beaten journalists before, and yesterday a reporter and a cameraman were subjected to their brutal show of force.

The Maoists want all the people to support their struggle, they don’t want any opposition. They have said only the poor and those belonging to ethnic groups, where their support is the largest, are real Nepalis. The rest are not.

All this is blatant dictatorship, tyranny, repression and racism.

Their actions and speech makes it abundantly clear who the real Fascists are.

new year and more bands

2009-12-30T22:28:00.000-08:00

Well, we're starting our new year with a band on January 1. This all bodes well for our future. More bands mean better Nepal, more rights for minorities and recognition that Nepal truly is a 'you can do nation'. Well, I should be able to do something also also, not through bands but through my hard work and creativity. Am I a rare breed? Nope, over 75% of Nepalese don't support any bands like this.

Time people hear that.

Kathmandu's Kabuliwala

2009-11-27T01:03:00.000-08:00

They come with their basket full of peanuts and we're instantly attracted by what they have, especially in winter. To eat peanuts while basking under a warm winter sun is everyone's favorite past time in Kathmandu as most houses are without heater. So three cheers to them.

How Nepalese Faces Look

2009-08-31T04:34:00.000-07:00

I've recently purchased a Canon DSLR and I went to Bugmati for my first outdoor shooting practice with my camera. My photography skills are still basic but I am keen on producing quality photos, and so I ventured to Bugmati, a traditional Newari village that still clings to medieval lifestyle despite all the modernity that surrounds it. When I came back, I was happy with the result. Have a look at some of the portraits I took of the people in the village.

Street cow menace in Kathmandu

2009-08-11T04:43:00.000-07:00

I was jostling for space on the busy streets of Kathmandu riding my bike. Ahead of me, lay hundreds of cars and bikes; behind even more vehicles. I was on a pavement though, trying to wiggle through the jam. Cheating my way through if you like. Going where only pedestrians should have. But I couldn’t help it, the traffic had bogged down and if I didn’t take to the pavement, I would be there for hours. But strangely, perhaps not, as I was making my way through, a big brown cow stood ahead of me, occupying the whole pavement and blocking my way ahead.

I honked. The cow was used to it I guess. Staying on the road for hours it was used to all the street cacophony. The cow barely blinked. I shook the handle of my motorcycle and with it the front tire to warn the cow. No reaction.

Should I push the cow? The cow was heavy, it had big horns. I was in for a serious damage if it got angry and charged.

Another bike honked from behind and we both laughed looking at each other. “Stupid cow,” the person on the bike said.
He brought his bike right up to the cow and gently touched the animal with the bike’s front tire.

I backed out.

The cow jumped and pointed its horns right at his motorcycle.

“Oh ho!”

I wanted to run now but I couldn’t. There were more motorcycles behind me. Ahead, the cow was getting rather excited. The person said, “If we’re not careful it’ll charge.”

Perhaps it was already too late.

This is situation we have to face living in Kathmandu. The city is a modern place, with cars, bikes, buses and trucks packing the streets during the day. Yet, they now have to share the road with cows.

In Nepal, there is an ancient culture of letting your cow lose during the day. The animals eventually come home in the evening after feeding itself. In the village, this is perfectly alright as there are large pastures for them to graze and roam around, but in Kathmandu, there aren’t any greenery and they usually slump on the street and create havoc for drivers. We can’t even scratch a cow in Nepal as they are very holy for the Hindus. If you kill one even by accident, it’s a greater crime than killing a human and you’re totally screwed.

A decade back, the government had issued a notice saying cows roaming the streets will be picked up and sends out of the Valley. The notice said owners complains would land in deaf ears because the streets were for vehicles not cows. The cows disappeared from the street after that. Now, with lawlessness on the increase and people disobeying the law all the time, they’re back and with vengeance.

This cow now was eyeing my brand new motorcycle. I love the chrome look of my bike but if a horn of the cow hit the petrol tank, it might go right through and let out all the petrol. I had to escape.

Luckily, the cars on the streets below started moving. I jumped right down on the street. The motorcycle behind had to break instantly and I heard a honk blare. I wasn’t worried about that. The driver would understand but the mad cow wouldn’t.

I left the other motorcycle beside the cow behind. I didn’t even turn around to see what his plight was like. I was glad I’d escaped and I knew I was never tangling with the cows again.

This is a warning to you also.

Share me your stories if you’ve encountered something like this.

Masked men and women of Kathmandu

2009-07-06T01:01:00.001-07:00

Is this because of H1N1 flue that’s recently arrived in Nepal or because of pollution?

I was in a cinema yesterday watching a stupid Hindi movie, only because my wife insisted on it. We’d only gone out to watch Hollywood movies until now so this was our first Bollywood one. It was 150 minutes of complete waste though. Inside the cinema hall I’d seen several people watching the movie with their masks covering their faces.

It is kind of stupid, isn’t it? Maybe I’m little bit reckless for not wearing one but if they’re so worried about catching the flu, why don’t they stay home. It was stuffy inside the cinema hall and quite hot. To stay like that for 150 minutes to watch a movie would have been like a purgatory for me, especially as the movie was anything but interesting.

I have a feeling though that they might taken the mask out when the hall went dark. When the lights came back on again, they’d hurriedly put back on again. If was an owner of Nike or Addidas, I’d hand out the mask with their name written on it and given them to these guys. It’d been a novel way of advertising.

I can understand though when pedestrians on the streets of Kathmandu are walking covering their faces with masks. It’s so polluted. It’s not just the smoke from all the ageing vehicles. It’s the dust. All the rain that Kathmandu is seeing these days deposits dusk on the streets, and when the sun comes out back again and the streets become dry, the dusk just bellows everywhere. It’s unbelievably bad. I am just so sorry for the traffic police who make sure the streets of Kathmandu don’t get clogged with vehicle. They’re on the street all the time and have to face the brunt of dust storm on the streets of Kathmandu.

So it’s mask time for people of Kathmandu, and with pollution getting worst day by day, I think we’ll be wearing one for a long time. I’ve already got 3 myself.

Road Side Vendors

2009-06-29T03:50:00.000-07:00

It’s not difficult to spot them. Walk out of your house to the main road and they’re everywhere selling all kinds of stuff, from vegetables, clothes, shoes, kitchen utensils to anything you can imagine. Well, just about any. I haven’t seen cars, bikes and refrigerators. Someday, if the current trend continues, even two-wheelers and four-wheelers will be sold in the road.

In Kathmandu, it’s the taxis and people ferrying micro-van that bar private vehicles from enjoying a smooth ride on the streets, stopping everywhere to pick up passengers and speeding recklessly to reach their next destination to pick up more passengers. In the pavements, the road side vendors create the same havoc to pedestrians. They take up all the space and leave only a single line for the people to walk through. Argue with them and they’ll call the big bosses, YCL.

Last Saturday, the Rato Macchindarnath festival was culminating with Bhoto Jatra in Jawalakhel, Kathmandu. It was the day when an elusive piece of inner garment worn by the God, Rato Macchindranath, on the upper part of the body is displayed openly. Thousands flock to the place. Along with them, the road side vendors also flock, setting up their stores wherever there is enough space.

I went to pay my homage early in the morning, around 7 am, to avoid getting crushed in the melee between devotees and vendors. But the devotees were already there, and not surprisingly, so were the vendors.

After paying my respect to Rato Macchindranath, I made my way to the place where majority of road side vendors where concentrated. Most of them were already at their game, shouting out their advertisement.

“Rs. 100 for a vest,” one said. “It’s the cheapest you can get”.

I stood next to him and asked him where he was from.

“Nearby,” he said. I asked him if it wasn’t too early for him to be here. He said he had to because he wouldn’t find space if he came late, and at around 5 pm, the police will chase them away as the place will be full of people to see Bote Jatra.

He became quiet though when I said from where he’d brought all his clothes.

I looked around. There were probably 50 to 75 vendors. They seem to be getting good business too. People were inquiring. A girl was buying a pair of shoes. A small child was demanding a balloon to her parents; the vendor was displaying all the balloons he had to the child. There wasn’t any interesting for me to purchase though, so I walked amidst the vendors and made my way home.

They need money, these road side vendors, but I need my space to survive in the city as well.

Unsung Heroes of Nepali Weddings

2009-06-19T04:42:00.000-07:00

For a mere Rupees 300 (or $5) they are it all night, blowing their trumpets and beating drums, making the crowd dance to their beat, sing aloud, rejoice. They're the heart and soul of any wedding. A priceless commodity.

Yet the people who play the music all come from poor background. They’re not educated and aren’t well paid. They do get to enjoy the food at the wedding, and if they’re lucky, they’re provided with a bottle of cheap alcohol to share amongst them. During cold winter nights, the alcohol will go down especially well.

Yesterday at a wedding procession, as the crowd danced and sang, as the procession was approaching the house of the bride, I took couple of photographs of the band members (there were 2 bands actually). I did it partly to make them feel special and egg them on. After the procession went inside the house and there was lull in their play, I even chatted with them asking questions like where they lived, and complimented them for playing good peppy music. They were happy with my attention. There was even a murmur amongst them, each asking others if I was a foreign. You don’t really have to be a foreigner to really notice unsung heroes of Nepal, do you?

Soon, they were playing again. A happy bunch of tired, lithe and hungry band members, trying to impress us all. I hoped someone would give them a good tip also.

Cheating in Exam

2009-06-05T00:00:00.000-07:00

My colleague was off work today. Said he had exam. Before he left he gave us a small lecture on cheating. In fact, I probed him about it. He was going on about how it was getting late for him to make cheats, that he’d need lots of time to prepare for it and how he’d be f..ked without it.

It was interesting lecture I must say. The way he described.

‘Always wear a cap,’ he said, standing in front us in our office room. ‘Your eyes move frequently when you’re cheating and the monitor staying in front can easily detect you through your eyes. A cap will take care of that.’

‘When you enter the class,’ he continued. ‘Always greet the monitor. Say ‘Namaste’ and ask him how he is. You’ll build up a relationship with him after that. He’ll be little lenient to you after that. ‘

‘But isn’t that obvious?’ I interrupted.

‘Teachers are frustrated bunch of people,’ he said. ‘They’re seldom given the respect they deserve by their students. You give them that and they’ll be happy. Even if you’re caught, they won’t expel you off. They’ll just ask for your cheat and allow you to continue.’

‘What after that?’ asked another colleague of ours, who was also present.

‘I don’t cheat for the first hour. The monitors are usually alert then. After an hour they tend to slack off. So I bring out my cheat.’

‘How do you?’ I asked. This was getting interesting.

‘Well I usually keep it on my lap. It’s usually a small paper, folded up nicely, with only the questions on the top. I look at the question and unfold the paper to where I need to. If I’m caught doing it, I hand all the cheats the monitor demands and continue. But I usually have plan B also.’

‘Wow!’ I remarked. ‘And what’s that like?’

‘I have two sets of cheats. If one is caught, I’ll wait for about 15 minutes, go to toilet and read there and write when I come back. Or I’ll just continue with where I left off. The monitors usually think when they’ve taken all the cheats, that’s it.’

‘Isn’t that lot of hard work writing all that?’ I asked.

‘But I enjoyed it.’

‘Even the cheating part?’

‘The most. It’s an art and I’ve come close to perfecting it.’

I was stunned.

An evening out with Big B

2009-06-03T00:33:00.000-07:00

He promised to listen to us. Solve our problems. Improve our team work. Assure we’d work in an environment where creativity and mutual trust would flow all around us. In the end, all we got was bollocking. That also for 60 minutes. I really wanted to shut my ears in the middle of it.

His mouth remained, as ever, over worked during the fiasco. His ears only heard the honks of the cars from outside the window of the restaurant we were in. During all this, he guaranteed us 7 days annual leaves a year, 7 days of sick leave, and public holidays that would be announced 1 day ahead.

“Work hard”, he barked. “The company is yours. You’re the leader. It’s in your hands.” That was our treat for the evening. The kind of dose we’d heard since his arrival from the land of opportunities, USA. He has outsourced most of his work to Nepal and he’s come to Nepal to ensure smooth running of his operation. We all thought he would be a messiah when he came. That our salaries would go up, he would bring administration, help end confusion, promise us written contracts, but we’ve sadly been mistaken.

Instead, the barrage of lousy speeches he’s given has demoralized my spirit. The rest of the staffs feel the same. Soon, he’ll return a pariah. Well not exactly as we can’t say anything to him directly. But we’ve stopped taking him seriously. He and his broken English can return to ‘the land of promised’ and and stay there permanently.

Day after the grand feat

2009-06-02T23:47:00.000-07:00

Came to work on a motorcycle, blissfully happy riding the bike. Yesterday’s walk has given me sore legs. I wanted to do some skipping in the morning. When I got up from the bed though, my legs really took a while to take my body weight. Well, I’m not enjoying now walking with stiff, hard legs that refuses to support my body, but I still enjoyed the Nepal bandh walk.

I wouldn’t mind Nepal bandh once in a fortnight. I really want to walk the walk.

Shutdown Kathmandu

2009-06-01T03:08:00.000-07:00

I walked, with shorts, an ipod and a bottle of water, from home to office. A distance I covered in 60 minutes. There wasn’t the usual cacophony of traffic, the smoke the vehicles bellows, and the dust the road throws at you. I walked smiling, breathing heartily and enjoying the environment that Kathmandu should have had. It’s Kathmandu Shutdown today, called by the Newars, who are demanding an autonomous Newar state in Kathmandu. Don’t know how that is possible though. Kathmandu’s become a totally mix place, with other communities outnumbering the Newars. But they like to make hue and cry about it. So let them.

In the main junction in Balkhu, a crowd of Newars were making sure nothing passed through, except for ambulances and press vehicles. There job was easy. There aren’t any vehicles on the road at all. They’d all been frightened off.

Towards the end of the walk, my knees buckled, slightly. It’d been almost an hour since I’d started walking, and tackling the uphill climb just before I arrived at my office, I was drained. Still, the old athlete in me kicked in and I arrived in my office in one piece. Now, I’ve got to relax, get the strength back in my old legs and walk home.

I’m thinking of listening to some disco music on the way back. Helps. And I hope streets will still be vehicle free. Sucks to perspire in the filthy air.

Lets Root Out Hindu Fundamentalism

2009-05-23T21:10:00.000-07:00

Today, I feel ashamed to call myself a Nepali. The church bombing shows how extremist we've become. There is no tolerance here. No respect for each other. We answer only in terms of bombs, violence and strike and try to paralyze life (and even kill without mercy). These people who died had done nothing wrong. They were peaceful people who wanted to do nothing expect pray and bring peace in their lives and in our lives. To kill such people shows we're no better than suicide bombers we find in Middle-East.

Lets unite, moderate Hindus, Buddhist, Christains and Muslims and rid the country of these extremist elements. We were never a Hindu country (and this comes from a person who is suppose to be a Hindu) but was turn into one by Shah Dynasty. Out country is for people of all faith, langauge and culture.

But sadly, when the politicial parties are themselves so extreme, what hope is there?

demonstrations and strikes

2009-05-06T22:07:00.000-07:00

That's what all the talk about is in Nepal - strikes, demonstrations, counter strikes and all the yada yada yada. It's so banal and boring but what to do, it' affects my life and I have to somehow digest all the information and live.

It's all ego actually. Each party claiming to represent the population and claiming to they'll do the right thing. No one does and in the end we all fend for ourselves like we always do.

I can't wait for the time when our politicians will grow up and think of Nepal and the Nepalis first and not their party and their ego.

Meanwhile, I've got to switch on FM radio and see if demonstration is coming down Kalanki. I've got to go get my lunch.

Instability Ripe

2009-05-04T22:38:00.000-07:00

The prime minister has resigned. The sacked army chief has been reinstated. Kathmandu is rife with rallies, marches and strikes.

We get up in the morning and first thing we do is listen to news to check if there are strikes being organized, if roads are being blocked by protestors. We ask our friends, families and cautiously venture out of the house. All day long in the office our mobile phones are buzzing with latest development.

"A torched rally is ongoing at Ratna Park. It's the Maoist", claims of my friends.

"Tyres are being burnt at Balkhu by Congress", shouts my colleague.

It's all happening, all over again. We're not in recession, thank God we're not. But we're even in worst state. In deep shit.

Old Man's Siesta

2009-05-03T03:16:00.000-07:00

The scene was at a large Rato Macchindranath courtyard in Bungmati. It was around 3 p.m. The sun was bright and the gentle breeze was keeping temperature cool. The old man, perhaps after a day's work in the field and with tummy full, was snoring away at the main temple's steps. He continued to do so even after I'd ventured closed to him and clicked several times. He looked such an innocent old man.

Notice his feet and his toe nails. They indicate years he's spent under hard toil. That's how life is like for ordinary Nepalis.

Perhaps if I'd used to large bell next to him he'd have sprang to life. But I'm not that mean.

The courtyard is a like beehive when the diety of the main shrine, the Rato Macchindranath, is present. It was being paraded around in nearby Patan, so that devotees can throngs in thousands and worship. When we were in the courtyard, it was a sleepy old but spectacular place. You could even hear the hummings of the flies. That's why we could get around and take pictures and enjoy the courtyard.

I'd like to return though when people are swarming in the alleyways leading upto the courtyard, when there isn't a place to move anywhere in the courtyard and the crowds are yelling in delight at the return of their god.

The picture below is of the courtyard.

Dark Knight in Kathmandu

2009-04-16T04:20:00.000-07:00

At least the days are longer now. We don't have to stare at darkness at 5 pm. I used sleep early in winter, around 9, since there was no electricity. But when I got up, it'd be 5 and I'd have to wait for another 2 more hours for day light. That problem's gone with summer.

But the wretched electricity continues to leave us with dark nights. Bored, I've read so much I can't believe it myself. I finished a 300 page novel in 2 days. I've been walking around late at night to kill boredom also. I've even purchased a battery powered, pocket sized radio. The list of my activities continues. Soon I'll start meditating also if nothing else, but there is no sigh of electricity coming soon to bright our lives.

We'll just have to be patient and hope something miraculous happens soon. I doubt it will though.

Chief with mysterious powers

2009-02-10T02:34:00.001-08:00

I wanted to stay in Jomsom for ever after having this meal in the hut in the picture. I had taken a plane out next day and missed the vast emptiness, the constant company of the wind, and the mountains that popped out like mushrooms everywhere.

The ama (nepali for mother in the picture) cooked me a sumptuous meal after I’d wandered into her hut two hours after they’d finished lunch. I sipped home made liquor and waited, my stomach churning with hunger, as she took her own time to cook.

She regaled in telling me stories of where she’d travelled while I waited. India, all over Annapurna regions, and her survival during lean days when her husband had disappeared with another woman was what she told me about. She was expecting her son back tomorrow morning so she was in high spirit.

The lunch was just want I was waiting for. I completely felt reinvigorated after gorging dal, bhat and vegetables only half cooked but cooked nevertheless with lots of love. I thanked her for her hard work, paid her handsomely, and in return even got a blessing.

Maybe that was why when I was waiting for the weather to clear next day, so that the plane could land, the clouds swiftly moved away when I remember ama. From nowhere in the sky, the plane landed and took me away.

I heard that was the only flight that day.

The Air Show

2009-02-10T01:48:00.000-08:00

I'm in Farnborough, one of thousands who've turned up to watch the planes take to the sky in Farnborough Air Show.

The weather though had different ideas on the day. Instead of planes, we watched rain fall from the sky and hope it would cease.

I borrowed the brolly from a Nepali security guard who was guarding one of the planes. It was big enough for three people, so I was just fine underneath the mammoth red mushroom.

Godavari Village Resort

2007-04-03T11:02:00.000-07:00

The air is fresher here, the weather slighter chillier. What I've enjoyed most, after getting up early in the morning, is the vista I`m presented with. Terraced green fields stretch before my eyes. Even in the countryside in England, the greenery isn't this lush. I'm glad the Brick Kilns that were gently bellowing polluted smoke are hidden from my view as the building I'm in doesn't allow me to see the ugly towers bellowing pollution.

Around the Kilns, green fields have vanished. Like the smoke from the Kilns, the field has turned brown, as the ground is dug up to make bricks.

It's a refreshing viewfrom the balcony of my room, as I watch out and sigh several times. It’s perfect to soothe my hangover. Just imagine having to endure the horns of the cars and loud Bollywood music in this state. Here, only the birds chirp.

Yesterday, I managed to guzzle four bottles of Carlsberg. Three sitting by the pool side and reading a novel, and one in the company of the World Bank staff. I'm an invitee here, invited by a staff of a Bank to come here and stay overnight for free. Needless to say, I'm relishing the opportunity.

Last night, I thought I'd be bored as they invited me to dine with them. I knew only few of them, the rest were unknown, scary faces. The Bank was having a retreat here. What would I do amidst them? I was worried I'd scar their evening with my presence. In the end, it wasn't so bad. The skill I'd picked up in England, when I'd visited numerous pubs alone and struck up conversations with reluctant strangers came in handy. I spoke to a Mathali lady sitting next to me, a pretty receptionist, and even become involved in a game they were playing. They're a fun bunch of people, the Bank staff. I`m glad they aren't morons, the rest of the country is infested by them.

At eleven p.m., I excused myself and called it a night. Now, as I write this, a mild headache is gripping me, a hangover, and if I don't hurry up and leave for breakfast, I might miss out on my last free treat.

Ciao.

P.S. Can't believe I've written so much despite the hangover, hunger, and the view in front of me.

Show of strength, burning tires

2007-03-20T11:44:00.000-07:00

It happened almost three miles away, in a village. A boy travelling in a local bus somehow managed to squeeze himself out of a tiny bus window. He crash landed, got crushed by a bus' tries and died. The driver knew nothing about it. The other passengers didn’t have a clue either. After the bus reached its final destination, the driver got out, went to a local tea shop and ordered a tea. He had thirty minutes to kill before he drove back again.

Meanwhile, the boy’s relatives and his friends found him missing. They searched the road the bus had travelled, and found him, dead, all mangled, barely recognisable. Shocked and infuriated, a crowd soon built up. They got hold of the driver, who, unaware of what had happened, was enjoying his tea. They lynched him, beat him severely.

Not satisfied, the crowd then travelled to Jawalakhel Junction, three miles away. There, where all the traffic flowed from the adjoining villages to the city, they blocked the road, told the vehicles plying the road to go back, and burned tires as a symbol of defiance. They said they were protesting the death of innocent child.

I was travelling to the city to do some shopping. One of the protesters gave me a severe tongue lashing, shouting, "Return home or we'll take all the air out of your motorcycle's tyres"

"A young, innocent child has died", he shouted ove, "and all you want to do is drive around".

But I didn’t know the child. I had nothing to do with the death. Why must I suffer? This is the new Nepal, where people shout, demonstrate, make their feelings know, no matter what. In the process, if others suffer, experience great discomfort, so be it. This is the Maoist Nepal, where they’ve inspired every Nepalese to protest. As long as it’s peaceful, I don’t mind. But my heart goes out to the driver and the parents of the child, not to the demonstrators. What they were trying to prove, I can not fathom!

Momos Galore

2007-03-20T10:56:00.001-07:00

It’d been almost four years. Now, that’s a long time, especially to wait for something you really enjoy. So, to end the wait, I went to what I thought was the best place. 'Decheinling Garden' is a Bhutani restaurant, situated at the entrance of Thamel. Before I’d gone to London, it had been my favourite place to enjoy momos and other food. I enjoyed their food because it wasn’t spicy, and somewhat different from other food you get in Kathmandu. To end my momo drought, when one of my cousins recommended the restaurant, I had no hesitation and took all my family to the restaurant. My treat! Ahm...

Since I'm a vegetarian, I ordered my own food whilst others ordered theirs. A plate of Kothe and steam vegetarian momo was what ordered. We'd ordered wine also and although step in price the wine was pretty good. So I sipped wine, enjoyed the tasters which had arrived quickly, and waited, all the time trying to hark my memory to good old days when I’d enjoyed the momos in the restaurant.

My Kothes were the first to arrive. They’re the fried momos. I tasted one, my saliva almost dripping with excitement. But when I’d swallowed half of it, I’d already detested the taste. It was absolute shit. I couldn’t believe it. The dough was thick and inside, nothing to savour, very bland. I tried another one, and another, and I gave up after just three, leaving seven in the bowl. I thought, oh well, the steam momos will make up for it. I had a plate to finish.

The steam momos arrived soon after that. They also to my great disappointed tasted the same. My cousins were eating quietly though, devouring their chicken momos. We were six in total, and this was a momo feast, my treat. I at least had the satisfaction of seeing them enjoy their food.

The hefty bill came and I paid, my stomach still growling with anger and hunger. But I was happy my cousins had enjoyed. On the way out, one of them said how my vegetarian momos had tasted. I said crap. They said the chicken momos tasted the same. I stared at them.

A Start

2007-02-18T19:16:00.000-08:00

I'm writing this at 3 a.m.

Unable to sleep, I'm couldn't think of doing anything else. However, I've been thinking of starting this blog for a long time. The thing is, I'm in London now, in UK. I've lived here for four and half years. In March 2007, I'm going back to Kathmandu, Nepal. That's where I come from, my home. I want to write about my adventure as I head home, what will shock me there, after living in the calmer waters of London.

This will be such a big change. The two cities are poles apart, in terms of everything, from the mentality of the people inhabiting these cities, to the landscape, everything. Some of the Scandinavian people I've met here think London is too much for them - crowded, noisy, polluted, too big. I tell them to visit India, or Kathmandu, and come back to London after that. They'll then see how organized, sophisticated, how clean London is.

So, I'll be writing about all these differences, and introducing you to Kathmandu. My time here, mingling with the intellectuals, the yobs, the hoi polloi, while drinking beer in the pubs, has given me enough flair to express well in English. You'll find my articles interesting, I'm sure. And with my background in sociology, I'll be providing you exciting insight into what I talk about.

Cheers.