Water woes and pump puzzle

We were always told a lie our whole life that Nepal is rich in water resources. We were forced to memorise it during school time, for the sake of a 'correct' answer. I have always been cynical about the fact that having huge rivers does not make us rich in any way. And I still hold it tightly like a water jar during a water crisis.

I grew up in the heart of old (real) Kathmandu, densely populated where dry taps were normal. My sisters were unsung heroes, who used to fetch water from the neighbour's house. They would have easily won the Olympic medal if there had been a bucket relay match. We treated water as liquid gold. The community well pump was always out of order. Laundry had to be done when the stars aligned. Bathings were a strategic affair - sometimes head only and rarely full body. Privacy? Neighbours not only knew about our laundry cycles but could probably sketch out every mole on my body if asked.

Then, one fine day, the Prime Minister made a grand promise: Melamchi water would cleanse our dusty streets and quench the city’s thirst. It was the speech of a lifetime—filled with hope, dreams and a sprinkle of comedy we only appreciated much later.

We waited. And waited. And waited.

Forty years of waiting brought us dust from construction, constant reruns of corruption scandals, and a masterclass in patience. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a new water pipe was connected to my house. Alas! Hope turned reality. But .......... I couldn’t get water without a pump. So, against the rules, I installed one, like everyone in my neighbourhood did. It felt like wow! I had left no stone unturned to have city water in my home. The water distribution schedule was for an hour every six days, with timings alternating between 10 a.m.–12 p.m. and 12 p.m.–2 p.m. Genius scheduling! I would have faliciated with Flower Garland who came up with this amazing idea. They wanted us to be attentive all the time for water.

(Source:Kantipur.com)

Yesterday was our scheduled water day. I marked it on my mental calendar after hours of deliberation. My mind kept reminding me about water. I fantasised about my underground water tank being full. I started to have a dream of a life where I did not have to worry about water. I was home in time, ready to flip the pump switch with a sense of purpose. As expected, the pump first delivered air—a powerful gust that spun the water meter like a jet engine. When water finally trickled in little by little - about 22% of water and 78% of air - I felt victorious, like a gladiator in the arena. Sure, I’d be billed for air, but hey, it was still cheaper than a water tanker.

And then, the electricity went off. Bravo! Who said the government lacks coordination. I beg to disagree. I murmured to myself, Nepal is water rich country and government work is systematic.

Jay Nepal!

Comments

1000 Miles And Counting

I have completed 1,000 miles this year. I am not a big fan of the old metric system of miles. I prefer kilometres. But 1,000 miles sounds much cooler than 1,609 kilometres. So, I am going with miles. I did it. And yes, it feels like another proud moment. I did some math. It is only a little more than '6 kilometres a day'. Six kilometres! That sounds minimal when you look at it that way. Still, somehow, it feels good to think about the whole distance. The compound effect is amazing. I run on alternate days, so it is about 12 kilometres per run on average. Some days are different. On Friday, I ran 20 kilometres. I had no plan for a long run, but as I started running, the distance slowly added up to 20. And then I went to the office afterward. It was a happy Friday. I have been thinking about what this 1,000 miles really means to me. Perhaps it is simply an example of 'showing up, no matter what'. Six kilometres on an average day. Sometimes 20, sometimes less than 10. Some...

Spicing Up My Run

After a few years of running, I have made my run not only about the distance, the pace, or the time on the Garmin. I weave stories out of it. I like to create little stories from my runs. Some come from my daughter. Some come from the streets of Kathmandu. Some come from my memories. Some are simply things I notice along the way. These little stories make my run interesting. They give meaning to the kilometres. They make the journey lighter. Take today's run. As we all know, the distance is never fixed. But when Garmin showed '13.99' km, I stopped it. Why? Because my daughter wanted my run to end at .99. I had actually run another 700 metres before reaching my destination. But I stopped the Garmin at 13.99. I could have recorded 14.69 km or more. But then I would have spoiled the story. Sometimes, it is these little things that make running fun. A few days ago, I was running along the Bagmati River. I went out and came back along the same route. This happened because of an...

Running with Dostoevsky

I completed Crime and Punishment - finally. I’ve recently started reading some of the classics, the books that are often referred to as “must-reads,”. This book is one of the longest books I have ever read. To be honest, I’m not ready to give any profound review of it. I am sharing my experience with reading the book. I started reading the physical copy, but somewhere along the way, I switched to the audiobook so I could listen while running. It took me months to finish. It wasn’t an easy read. I completed nearly half of the book on the physical book and then switched to Spotify. They were completely different experiences. Reading a physical book feels like reading, whereas listening is more like, the narrator has more control over it, but I enjoyed the audiobook version equally. The characters and their details are so well described. The events almost pop out vividly. The monologues and thoughts, and ruminations of the characters - those make the book wort...

My first Marathon - 42.195 kms

On November 1, 2025, I completed my first full marathon. I mean 42.195 kilometres, at the Kathmandu Marathon. It was rewarding and worthwhile. It was pure joy. One big, proud check off my bucket list. I had been preparing for this moment for months. I registered for it a long time ago, as an early bird. My training wasn’t exactly at an “elite athlete” level, but I did what I could: some long runs, some short ones, and some high-pace “show-off” runs. YouTube coaches and Garmin training plans became my virtual trainers. A week before the marathon, I got symptoms of a cold. A runner's biggest fear - my nose ran faster than I did. I googled "how to recover from a cold soon?" and the internet basically said, nothing much, it would take its usual course of about a week. I googled “how soon can you run after a cold?" Answers were not encouraging. But I wasn’t giving up. I took medicine, drank plenty of water. A few pre-runs that week were slow and tiring. I could only hope ...

Do The Hard Things, But...

My daily routine is so set now that it almost seems boring. But I love to turn boring things into interesting things. Firstly, we have always been told, "Do what you love to do." I do not buy this. There is nothing wrong with doing the thing we love to do, but what if we don't love the thing that we have to do, ie, 'the hard things'? I have built a habit of doing the hard things, which I started to love doing, but not always. Yesterday was my scheduled running day, but the morning brought a heavy, relentless downpour. Running in the rain after you are already out on the road is tolerable, but stepping out the front door into a torrent feels counterintuitive and strange. All day at the office, I felt a lingering sense of incompletion. My body missed the familiar, satisfying fatigue that comes from a morning run. I kept promising myself that I would make up for it after work. The moment I arrived home, I changed into my running gear and headed south into the cool ai...

Random hits on the keyboard

Search This Blog